It’s been a while since we’ve heard from bassist / pianist Charles-Eric Charrier, who last impressed us with 2011’s elegant Silver. He moves in two directions on Petite Soeur, polishing his sound on the vinyl portion while saving his deeper experiments for the digital bonus tracks.
Charrier is joined on this record by a quartet of additional musicians who play everything from the expected (guitar and percussion) to the unexpected (charango, clarinet). Even the percussion gains an unexpected edge thanks to the derbouka and afuche cabeza. On this album, the guests provide more than just adornment. Charrier is a generous host, launching the album with his own sounds on the title track but fluffing the pillows for charango and guitar on “No Closed to Be”. The percussion grows increasingly prominent throughout the track, and takes over at the start of the next. This attention to detail allows the album to flow smoothly despite the presence of what might otherwise have seemed competing timbres. Each track possesses great internal movement as well; one or two instruments set the table, but the others soon arrive to eat. Even the unassuming maraca finds a place next to the metallophone.
No single track provides an indication of what the album is about, but “Instant/Moment” comes close, with a slow build of drums, bass and harmonium leading to an explosion of brass. If the other songs and instruments are represented by the paint smears on the cover, “Instant/Moment” is represented by the center splatter. But note: the splatter still lies across a smear. There’s nothing on the main album to knock a listener out of a pleasurable trance. The six minute “Toumimi Tatayé” is even accessible enough to be a single (at least by ACL standards).
Everything changes when one reaches the bonus tracks, which are an ample 17 and 10 minutes in length and allow Charrier to give free reign to his more experimental impulses. In the opening minute of “Space and Time”, Charrier delves into arrhythmia. The second minute bleeds with squall, beat and theremin-like sounds. The third minute deteriorates into piano and electronic drone. No, this would not have fit on the main album. And fourteen minutes still remain, including a fading six of a single extended wind-like tone. “Focusing (Petite Soeur)” is even darker, and ends abruptly, as if its parents had walked in and found it doing something it was not supposed to be doing. These two tracks might have made a compelling EP, but as bonus material they are a gift to the listener, especially to the fan who might have been wondering whether Charrier’s heart was still avant-garde. Not to worry, it is! (Richard Allen)
a closer listen 