ountless psychological and sociological factors inform our aesthetic opinions. Sometimes I’m more fascinated by how these factors manipulate our opinions of music than the music itself. For instance, the liner notes of Conflits are written in French, a language I neither read nor speak. This alters the way in which I interpret the material in question and, in many ways, encapsulates the limitations of language. I think I might understand this record, but my conception might be in conflict with Ghislain Poirier’s and/or other listeners’ and readers’ conceptions. Therefore, I must turn to other sources for clues to a more ‘correct’ interpretation. But first, let’s deal with the formality of an attempt towards an arbitrary description:

The majority of this record is instrumental, avant-garde hip-hop. ‘Avant-garde’ can usually be translated as the stylistic bleeding of genre borders. Here, those two additional genres are jazz and IDM. Frequently, then, jazz based (or sampled) percussion phrases are DSP warped. These are mixed with similarly jazzy bass motifs, and both are chopped and spliced to construct thoroughly hip-hop forms. Garnishes include high-end stabs and washes consisting of synth tones, digitally-dicked horns, and raw feedback. The mix is loud, high, and brittle. At times, it gives an impression of low budget DIY recording. For instance, “Terrorisme alimentaire” is made almost entirely of skillfully construed hot mic feedback. I remember recording similar experiments in my bedroom as a teenager, these, needless to say, sound much better.

French rapping is the only other piece of the musical equation here. I’ve often read other writers’ complaints that French rhymes just don’t kick it as much as they should. An obvious reason for this is that English, with all its Celtic gutturals and hard consonants, packs more of a punch when strung together compared to the more languid, Latin-based French. On the few tracks where Poirier rhymes, the texture is rich and smooth, fitting nicely with the jazz overtones. Only when Seba guest raps on “Pour la suite du monde” do things get bumpin’ in the traditional sense. Even here though, his speed rap sounds jacked in postproduction.

In the end, though, there are few complaints to be had about the music specifically, aside from the final four mellow pieces, all of which could have served as a clichéd coda on their own. By the time they close the album out I’m left thinking: “should have been an EP.”

Now, let’s move on to the hack journalist tabloid backstory: Me left without French; I must conduct an extralingual investigation of context. The package is beautiful. It’s a matte cardboard folded into the shape of a digipack. The colour scheme is limited to beiges and browns, much like the same formal constraints found in the music. What holds the CD is another piece of folded tan cardboard sewn onto the outer cardboard. I’ve never seen a case like this before. The art on the promo references Goya’s The Shootings of May Third 1808, except here the prostrate victim is not being shot, but shouted at through a megaphone. I can also clearly make out the words “Afghanistan,” “propaganda,” and “genocide” in the rhymes on Conflits. And, with a little internet research I discovered that Poirier’s first record was released on Taylor Dupree’s 12k label, and that brings with it snooty, overpriced British music journal points. All of these factors add to my enjoyment of this record outside of the intrinsic qualities of the music itself.

Put the aforementioned biases together with some downtempo hip-hop and an intellectual and political mind and you have a good record. Move over DJ Spooky.