La STPO - Tranches De Temps Jete (2006)

I think I'll start with one of my favorite CDs, a masterpiece of an album released just last year. The CD is Tranches De Temps Jete (Slices of Thrown Time) by La Societe Des Timides A La Parade Des Oiseaux (The Shy Society at the Bird Parade).

It can be ordered from www.blrrecords.com.

Comments are always appreciated.

REVIEW:

Rating: 9.6

Imagine that you have this band. Their music roughly consists of the staccato starts and stops of Etron Fou Leloublan (with a similarly awesome rhythm section and also similarly dynamic vocals). On top of this fertile background are post-punk explosions that would leave This Heat in awe. Interspersed into this volatile mix are post-rock (ish) sections a la Kayo Dot. Then, just for extra color, throw in the Dadaist ideals of Sleepytime Gorilla Museum, but make them reflect in the music more. There you have a rough approximation of what La Societe Des Timides A La Parade Des Oiseaux (The Shy Society at the Bird Parade) sounds like on their 2006 masterpiece Tranches De Temps Jete (Slices of Thrown Time).

But that really doesn’t tell you much about them. With a band as original as La STPO, such comparisons are utterly useless. You’d be better off discarding everything I (and everyone else) has said and will say, and just hear this for yourself. If my words can’t convince you, their music surely will. Starting with a strange English monologue over a pleasant melody, La STPO create the illusion of calm on the opening track, “I Cuento Blumen.” Don’t be fooled, however. Not all is right at the bird parade, for “my home is dry; I want it wet.” And then we’re off on one of the aforementioned explosions, and from here there’s no looking back as we rocket through the magical world La STPO have created on this album. In this one song alone, I recognize English, French, German, and Spanish. Whatever parts of the album you can’t understand due to the language barrier, however, shine through in the music itself, because, as we know, music is the universal language. And this is a universal album.

Merely captivating me with the opening does not satisfy these guys, however. They still have five more songs full of awesome power and mystique left in which to display their wide array of influences and new ideas. And so we have the highly percussive “Cet à-Mort Vibre L’Air,” which, like its predecessor, provides a brief illusion of beauty before ascending into the madness that so defines La STPO’s existence. There are hints and snatches of familiar melodies here, but none last long enough to allow you a sense of comfort. It is La STPO’s goal with this album, or so I can only assume, to keep you on your toes for fifty plus minutes, never allowing you to guess what comes next, not even after you’ve heard it a hundred times. They achieve this by almost constantly changing tack, developing themes long enough to give the pieces a sense of coherence, but not long enough to allow for any sense of comfort whatsoever. Many bands try this and fail. La STPO try and succeed.

The rest of the album is both similar and vastly different. In its approach to music, the remainder of Tranches De Temps Jete is nearly exactly the same as on the first two songs. It terms of quality, again, the last four songs are the same as the first two (nearly perfect, that is). When it comes to what is actually being played, however, every song is world’s apart from its counterparts. “Jeune Fille Devant Le Miroir” explores the realms of avant-garde jazz similar to but distinct from early Henry Cow (LegEnd and Unrest) as combined with guitar riffs that wouldn’t sound out of place with some of Sleepytime Gorilla Museum’s less heavy work (the song “Formicary” from In Glorious Times comes to mind in particular, though “Jeune Fille” is far more effective overall). The catchy and the dissonant combine perfectly in this song, creating one of the greatest and most concise musical statements I’ve heard. Percussion is, again, heard in full force, calling to mind Charles Hayward and Pip Pyle in their more “tinkly” moments, but seemingly outdoing both (that’s quite an accomplishment, mind you; those are two of the greatest drummers of all rock/jazz music).

The rest of the album is no less exhilarating than these three songs, combining all the elements I’ve mentioned and more into one fantastic blend. On the whole, Tranches De Temps Jete is a fun and quirky masterpiece that manages to combine humor with fantastic musicianship, a host of formidable influences, and, most importantly of all, a seemingly endless well of innovation. Anyone who believes that modern music is dead needs to hear this album; it has more life than most of the bands of the 1970s combined. Of course, those who understand and appreciate the high level of innovation and intelligence present in modern music also need to hear this album, since it is among the very best of them all. It may be called Slices of Thrown Time, but I guarantee that no time spent listening to this album will be in any way “thrown away.”