Considered as their most progressive output, the 1972 “Paix” album features two excellent long pieces, the 15 minutes long eponym track “Paix” and the 24 minutes haunting “Un jour… la Mort”. The beginning of the “Paix” piece has some sonic flavors reminiscent to German progressive psych excursions due to a dark lysergic intro infused with intergalactic sounding keyboard riffage and a deep haunting bass sound to underscore it all. And when all gets underway, Catherine Ribeiro makes an entrance with some starkly proclaimed lyrics, catapulting the song into a higher gear and beefing up its progressive intensity. But just when you thought you had heard it all, side 2 is about to hit you with the breathtaking “Un jour…la Mort”, taking the whole intensity towards another level with intense lyrics wandering into some dark territories while multi-layered keys and guitars collide with pulsating drive of morbid percussive rattles. The music is bagged in a fabulous gatefold sleeve depicting an image of Ribeiro, stark and empowered yet all-welcoming, sitting easily amongst her band mates, flowering branch in hand, bearded, bedazzled co-conspirator Patrice Mouliet at her back, and a massive tree trunk shooting heavenward supporting their combined weight. Ribeiro herself comes across as goddess, white witch and peasant, which is no less than the multiple effect of her voice on record. The magnetic quality of this metaphysical nature scene is undeniable; a staggering example of the early 70's earthy aesthetic and the penetrating influence of honest idealism.
Roc Alpin Jusqu'à Ce Que La Force De T'aimer Me Manque Paix Un Jour... La Mort
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