I don't know a damn thing about this record, except that it rocks, has an amazing jawharp solo, and features guitarist Pierre Bensusan on some tracks. Some sort of compilation, rootsy rootsy rootsy and yummy. Francophone.
I got it from here, which has more info for anyone who's got the gift of Gallic gab:
Anyhow, here are two links to the music (just unzip em both to the same folder):
Heh. Google translate gives me this:
"Perhaps we now live with little we realize the golden age of folk, turning point where our music is definitely out of the shadows and is not (too) recovered by merchants soup music.
If unchecked, folk convicted, in times very close to an outlet shopping sadly, and I already see a fierce-eyed, female that should undergo the Cajun, for example, s 'integration as a substitute additional supermarkets.
The response must be prompt, to come from within, musicians themselves, and lead to autogestion.Ce is not a utopia, we are very numerous, present everywhere and this year's Krazy Kajun, wherever he turned, met folkeux which engaged hard to agitation music, shaking their torpor of people as music "furniture" had conformisés, secure, morons.
The galleys were right music for many musicians, many groups, but Folk is the legend of the Hydra, cut off his head, she pushes the moment.
The show-buisemesseux point today their ugly head in the Folk Clubs, and are quick with a grin of probability calculations successful. No doubt they also want to impose their old recipes to success, their old tricks but weak profit.
Net reject and react quickly, very quickly. It is high time!
Now, let me say that this album was made with love, without any commercial purpose. It was attended by musicians who I know have the friendship that came, free choice and the duration of their songs, the only common thread was to provide a reflection of the traditional music of the American continent. All are not there, far from it, but if it is a bit of a hard time ... Hopefully in a series that will bring many more.
You hear unfortunately not the trampling of dancers or the laughter and shouts of a crowd, but you do not find the atmosphere chilly morgue registration where only some "professionalism" save quality "product".
The sound has made the runs upstairs in my room in the Latin Quarter, with gray roofs and blue skies just like for decoration. Wine and beer warmed the walls whitewashed, and editing - a mountain of bits of magnetic tape - has long clouded the red and white tiles of my kitchen table.
Finally, I would like to dedicate this record to my dear old dad and Rene, who has built his own hands when I was a little one, my first musical instrument, and took me riding on his shoulders wherever we could hear.
Make love and beautiful music
And let the good times roll
Paris this Sunday, June 8, 1975
Gerard Dole "
