This album is a scattered poem, issued from informal recordings stolen from the artist by …himself. An impressionist canvas. A sepia, semi-burned photograph. Tired piano, old sound, exploring freely, full of pedal resonance.
Only one whole story. All along, recursive gimmicks. A long lasting conversation, with ideas that come, go, and come again, stuck to habits. Like us.
Flashes and flights, for the enchantment. Traces, trance, and patterns, ginned along the living soil of a non-so-much-binary keyboard. Plastician’s stuff.
A dreamlike borderline state. A waking dream. At the frontiers of perception. Playing, that's all about it. The twilight zone of dreams is the double life we encounter each night.
Warm wind, sincere gaze, the watery translucency of the air.
Coming from electro psychepop & expe influences, the pianist dremt this album, swimming deep in a cloudy lake, skimming fluorescent eyed humnimals. Dirty sounding pianos along the way. Dirty pictures. Maybe a kind of frenchie symbolist jazz.
A cliché. Like our lives, liven, one again, threw the awaken dream of movies & series. Are we something else but clichés? No matter. Smile to the cam. Make love to the cam, yes come on, like this, babe go on fuck the cam.
All of this cose a piano is not an instrument to carry, and everybody plays it : no one "owns" a piano. It's this girl or guy everybody loves in secret. Everyone lays with...
Piano is a storm of yourself. Piano is a calm, slightly murmure of you.
These recordings are IRL stuff, played on some pianos the artist met on his way, captured with basic devices. The same way he makes low fi digital art, this album is a foggy souvenir, like some old Bill Evans live in a restaurant, but here, clients would have stopped talking, eating, just to listen.
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a french poem :
Un vent chaud gonfle le coeur,
secoue les cyprès.
Cette lune trop grosse, proche à me toucher,
éclaire les scories d'autres nuits.
Je te vois, brouillée de cheveux flottants,
et deux tâches bleues.
Qui me percent avec gentillesse, lentement.
Un poème français sort de ma bouche,
d'alcool et de tabac...
Les gens qui se s’affectionnent se trouvent-ils bonne haleine ?
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« Upon listening to himself again, the pianist also perceives his playing as a teeming, life-filled flight, a jostling of primal molecules coursing through the inner cosmos, the sensitive matter of being-in-the-world. Tendernesses, tears, sighs, rumblings of power, of passion, of anger or joy. Of joyful angers, too. Spiritual stagnations, as well, stretching to the point of exhaustion. Myriads of small collapses of fragments of oneself.
Sounds push the air and the feelings between us people, in concentric waves, to scribble the original soundtrack of no movie. Life. crepuscular awareness, with half of mind stuck to reality, and the other half dreaming awake, no alcohol, no weed. Not always. Eyelids still stuck together from the dreams of the night before. The sun in my eyes, making my way to rehearsal almost blind, weaving around the faceless silhouettes of passersby cut out against the light. The is how I play.
If, while playing, you listen to your inner world, it becomes a slight trance where a language with no words grows in you, and around, lots of images from your whole life, numbers and vibrations, emotions and ephemeral flashes of lucidity. Something is in action, not made by you, but also made with something of you, of your numerous you."
What? Which? Who? What music to « make » when your roots are stretched between northeast Poland, Ukraine near Kyiv, the France of Saint-Chamond and beyond, and the former colony of Cameroon, near the banks of the Sanaga River? IFB worked as a musician and as a plastician on several projects: underground rock new wave, jazz quartet, hybrid brass band and electro experimental with interactive sensors, electronic music label, vocal a cappella quartet, electropop experimental own songs, music for theatre and dance, and many contemporary digital art residences and exhibitions.
This music works also pretty well while looking at the sky, cloudy, or full of stars, sunny urban day, rainy country land…