René Lussier / Robbie Kuster: Fiat lux

The man who celebrated 50 years in the music business in December 2024 on the stage of Le Ministère, in Montreal, has done the rounds of the many ways in which two people can be crazy. From Les Granules in the 1980s, with multi-instrumentalist Jean Derome, to Reza & moi (2020), with Reza Yazdanpanah (târ and voice), via La vie qui bat, his 1990s duo with drummer Pierre Tanguay, or Dur noyau dur, at the same time, with record player Martin Tétreault, the musician explores interaction and fusion with the other. And let’s not forget Nous autres, his 1986 live recording with fellow multi-instrumentalist Fred Frith. This list alone would make a fine discography, but it’s far from enough, as René Lussier has spivied as an instrumentalist, singer, composer and producer on dozens of albums.

Merging, then, like the two matches on the cover of “Fiat lux”. Or like the Twins of the title track, who seem to sing like a two-headed monster. Lussier revisits some of his own repertoire here, including Rien d’acquis, a cover of the Tabula rasa album (now there’s another Latin expression), and Troc, a take on Granules’ Troc de viande, with the guitarist belching onomatopoeia over his explosions of chords. The duo also ventures into Ornette Coleman territory with Haven’t Been Where I Left, and offer a fine rendition of Albert Larrieu’s La feuille d’érable. “Albert who?” you might ask… Larrieu, composer and author of this early twentieth-century song that was adopted as the anthem of the National Improv League, which, of course, is entirely appropriate, as the two thieves don’t mind venturing into the slippery terrain of spontaneous composition (but with cleats!).

There’s a whole world inside René Lussier’s guitar, but that doesn’t stop him from expanding his sonic universe by adding a few, shall we say, offbeat instruments, such as the Jew’s harp or the daxophone. Fellow musician Robbie Kuster (whom you might have heard with Patrick Watson or Marianne Trudel, among others) is not to be outdone, either on drums, which he heats up to perfection, or with his egoisne or nail organ (essentially, a board on which nails of various lengths are hammered and played with the fingers, kalimba-style). This instrument, which sounds softer than its name might suggest, can be heard on Ayoye.

In the end, this first post-half-century record is a fine way of looking back in the rear-view mirror without seeming to do so. There’s even a brief reminder of “Trésor de la langue” on Biscuit. An explosive duo that only needs a small match, and with which René Lussier once again offers us all the originality of the treasure of his language.

To be seen in concert across Quebec, in duo or trio format (with Hugues-Olivier Blouin on double bass) between July and October:

René Lussier | Artists | Spectacles Bonzaï