{"id":11702,"date":"2020-03-02T15:30:03","date_gmt":"2020-03-02T20:30:03","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/panm360.com\/?post_type=records&p=11702"},"modified":"2020-03-02T15:31:42","modified_gmt":"2020-03-02T20:31:42","slug":"feu-aimant","status":"publish","type":"records","link":"https:\/\/panm360.com\/en\/records\/feu-aimant\/","title":{"rendered":"Feu Aimant"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

There are four of them, whom chance has brought together. Ah, the unifying power of music! First there were three \u2013 on keyboards, synths, drum machine and programming, Maxime Corbeil-Perron; on bass, Sylvain Gagn\u00e9; and on guitars, Simon Trottier. For years, while each was following his own path (Trottier is notably part of Timber Timbre), the three of them have crossed paths several times, one playing with the other, the other playing with yet another. Then Japanese vocalist Maya Kuro came to Montreal. You can hear her in the duo Rippleganger with Rainer Wiens, in the Joker choir, then one day, by chance… Just as their paths have crossed, this lovely bunch weave together skillfully textured tracks, in which the layers of sound overlap and pulsate and swell with just the right amount of tension to keep them captivating. Above it all hovers Kuro’s voice. You might not understand what she’s talking about, but that’s okay, she’s possessed of such musicality, so suggestive with her slightly mischievous Japanese character, that she evokes an undefinable exotic elsewhere where one is transported \u2013 and to which one wants to return.<\/p>\n\n\n\n