Connivence III from 1984 by request

Look at the terrible cover photo for III!  what was the idea I wonder??? Renaissance artist meets Miami Vice set inside Tron?  Hello beautiful can I blow a trumpet up your...?  well as we all know we must be nonjudgemental when it comes to that decade.  At least the music is not Duran Duran-influenced.

Recall Gilles Legault, and his 1981 solo album?  Here's the remainder from his former group.  As I mentioned in his post, I believe he wrote the most beautiful songs out of all here, quite an achievement considering the size of the group initially, being quite magically haunting, expressive, and very poetic in terms of word choices.

With regards to this album, their third, his best contribution (of only 2) called Ou Vent Frissonne, is perhaps a bit too brief though clearly authentically inspired:





The remainder of the songs on III features a quite eclectic mix of reggae, folk-gigs, 80s style commercial pop, and a progressive instrumental track called Detour that is perhaps the highlight for the serious music fan:





Written by Steve Burman, who wrote a few other remarkable tracks for the first 2 albums.

Which recalls their 1977 installment in which an absolutely sublime progressive instrumental track called Lapin closed it out, written by one Charles Fairfield.  I always wonder about these artists who disappear after composing such majestic one-off things.  They must have done more, never revealed to the rest of us, perhaps abandoned...

In general the first two albums are the masterpieces, very similar to Broussard which I posted compleat in the comments last time, but perhaps a tiny bit better in terms of progressive inventiveness in the instrumental sector and sheer unforgettable melancholy beauty in the dept. of Legault's magnificent songs.  I sure hope and pray I'm not the only one who will start crying each time I hear his magnificent harmony vocals in the chorus of S' il y a de l' amour:





"If there is love, if there is love,
the shadow of my shadow will wait for me
nothing will allow it anymore to disappear
except the summer nights-- 

If there is love, if there is love, then so be it"

Gilles Legault (from Connivence) and his "Chansons Secretes"

An utterly unknown album that doesn't deserve perdition, especially considering Gilles was one of the principal songwriters for the famed Quebec group Connivence that put out three superb progressive folk rock albums from 1977 to 1984.  (And despite the late date, that last album does have some quite beautiful songs and is worth seeking out.)

This album features not only some stunning songwriting from Gilles' hand but also some really wonderful poetry, some of which is from him and some from other writers.  It puzzled me for many years that his output is limited to perhaps two dozen songs spread out over the 7 Connivence years and this album which was released in 1981 to apparently little notice.  To this day it is quite difficult to find as an LP for purchase, as you could see with a google search.  One would have imagined such a great artist had been more productive, perhaps he has many unreleased songs that would be worth hearing now.

I will suggest to you the incredibly otherworldly "Le passé de la vie" (both lyrics and music from Legault) and provide a quick translation:

"The past, of life,

wishes to come out again from far,

that can no longer sleep in sadness

now you want to know your fate

yes, that is good

yes, that is good

my photo of the sun

will remind you of the end

of the future and of uncertainty,

you will disguise yourself as a magician

not for nothing

not for nothing..."

Really gorgeous, as a result of the things unsaid, what is intimated between the lines as ideas or a setting, you can interpret it in many different ways.  

This is a true gem for the folk fan, for me made all the more special for the immense beauty of the poetry.  And as with the Connivence songs, a kind of nostalgic melancholy pervades his songwriting.

The other notable poem is the song about the Snail, which was written by one Jany Lavoie.  The snail writes on the ground in one line without artifice, the woman writes in a diary with penmanship and a great deal of flourish, but she also writes on the sidewalk of the city, and you must follow her feet to know what she is saying.  Then in the last stanza, this mysterious ending:

"So, angry she cannot write
with the whole pen of her body
she blackens the white flesh
of the cut tree, the fallen tree
under her hand"

As usual, what is invisible to the eyes is what is most beautiful-- as le petit prince once said.