The Patient Melodies of Brûlez les meubles

The name Brûlez les meubles carries a wry humor. While it means "burn the furniture" in English, it flips the common French phrase "sauver les meubles" (preserve the essential). Across multiple recordings, guitarist Louis Beaudoin-de la Sablonnière and bassist Éric Normand have developed this tension between preservation and reinvention, building a musical language that is equal parts detailed composition and open-ended exploration.

Folio #5 breaks new ground for the Québec duo—it's their first album without drums. This recording includes tenor saxophonist Ingrid Laubrock, pianist Marianne Trudel, and vibraphonist Jonathan Huard. Their collective sound lives in quiet hours, where jazz and chamber music blur, filled with patient exchanges that unfold like whispered stories.

Both musicians spoke about crafting music across the five hundred kilometers between them, their varied approaches to structure and spontaneity, and how working with different collaborators shapes their art. Their thoughts reveal the mechanics and mystery of a partnership that keeps finding new forms.

Lawrence Peryer: The band name references "sauver les meubles"—preserving the essential. How does this notion of questioning what's essential play out in your music?

Éric Normand: At the very beginning, this idea of Brûlez les meubles was based on the fact that we always play with different people and don't have a steady band. But now, I see it more like a wish to forget the rules and preconceptions and play simple tunes, simply.

Lawrence: Your work bridges free improvisation and composed structures. Can you discuss how you balance these approaches when writing and performing?

Louis Beaudoin: I enjoy it when the improvised and composed moments blend to the point where it becomes difficult to tell what's written and what's spontaneous. The project's aesthetic is inspired by the creative jazz tradition of Jimmy Giuffre, Paul Bley, Muhal Richard Abrams, and countless other masters from the past. This aesthetic is interesting because Éric typically works in his other projects in more experimental and freer territories. As for me, my other projects tend to be more concrete and structured. We meet in the middle of our two respective worlds. Even though our music might seem unsettling to purist listeners, I believe it still belongs within the broad family of jazz. Several aesthetic traits connect our music to this style: improvisation at the core, our pieces often structured as theme + improvisation + return to the theme, and our reinterpretation of popular pieces from our folk tradition.

Éric: I use different strategies to construct composition from improvisation, which I use with other projects. With Brûlez les meubles, there is no trick, no strategy at all. It's tunes. Melodies. Heads. We just play as we do with a fakebook; the rest is listening and chance.

Lawrence: What made Ingrid Laubrock and Marianne Trudel right for Folio #5?

Éric: Chance. We wanted to do something without drums to escape the traditional band format. I saw Marianne playing Joni Mitchell's tunes and had a flash to invite her. I think the idea of having Ingrid came out of discussions with Marianne.

Louis: Marianne Trudel is an excellent musician fully dedicated to her art, and Ingrid Laubrock is one of my favorite saxophonists and composers. I consider myself lucky to have had the opportunity to collaborate with them musically and, at this moment, record with them.

Lawrence: What drew you to this chamber music format with vibraphone and piano?

Éric: Louis and I love iconic drum-less jazz albums, such as Jimmy Giuffre's 3 or Kenny Wheeler's Angel Song, and we wanted to pursue this approach. However, because we are twisted minds, we approach the music with three harmonic instruments (four with the bass), which is unnatural, as our music is based on melodies with unclear harmony.

Louis: Music without drums completely changes the final result. The choice of several harmonic instruments was appealing and gave us another constraint to explore. I think the blend of the timbres of the piano, vibraphone, and guitar creates an interesting and complementary result.

Lawrence: These compositions evoke nocturnal spaces and intimate conversations. What guided the mood and atmosphere of these new pieces?

Louis: I enjoy the ballad format. I released an album under my name (Ballades pour Danièle) and another with my project Quinos (Ballades pour Aline). I wouldn't say our albums are ballad albums, but our pieces are often imbued with that atmosphere. Many jazz musicians like to make albums with various tempos and styles (a ballad, a fast swing, a bossa, a groove, sad pieces, joyful ones, and nostalgic ones). Still, I prefer more homogeneous albums, exploring a single world and staying within the same colors. And I enjoy "nocturnal" music.

Lawrence: Your press materials mention "soft, late-night conversation" as a musical metaphor. Could you elaborate on how conversation—pacing, dynamics, silences—influences your ensemble?

Éric: It depends on the tunes. Sometimes, there are dialogues; sometimes, two layers are going on, but the basis of a conversation is to listen when somebody talks. We try to listen and let things happen, and energy flows.

Louis: Since our music leaves a lot of space for improvisation, all the spontaneous moments arise from conversations. With five musicians, we can converse as a group of five or in smaller subgroups, and like in real human conversations, these groups shift and change throughout the evening. We also incorporate Klangfarbenmelodie, where the conversations overlap and interrupt each other. Ultimately, all the notes become more important as part of the collective sound than when played solely by the original instrument.

Lawrence: Éric, your modified electric bass incorporates preparations and devices. Could you describe the role of your instrument in the group's sound?

Éric: I use a conventional (but homemade) five-stringed bass guitar with a high C string in this band. I try to keep a dark sound that, in a way, follows Steve Swallow's influence. Having a precise bass sound without a strong presence and finding a balance with acoustic instruments is hard. I remember hearing Swallow talking about his search for an airy, precise sound that doesn't play over the other instruments. My sound is quite different from his, starting from the point that I play without a pick, but I think he was a huge influence in finding a tone that can fit this project. In my opinion, there are not thousands of electric bassists in jazz who find a personal tone. My playing is informed by some masters of the instrument (such as Jamaaldeen [Tacuma], Stomu Takeishi, or Bob Nieske). I've also picked influences from other instruments, such as Albert Mangelsdorff's trombone chords-tone or some piano stuff I like to put in.

In free improvisation, I use many objects and devices to add variety to a language that is not note-oriented. But this is another process, another quest.

Lawrence: Louis, how do the different musical vocabularies you are fluent in—jazz, metal, etc.—inform your playing in Brûlez les meubles?

Louis: I listen to many different styles of music. Right now, I'm working on a series of albums that explore the idea of taking similar musical elements—such as melodies, rhythms, and harmonic progressions—and applying them to different genres. So far, I've released three albums: two based on various styles of black metal and the other on chanson française. I'm also finalizing albums in krautrock, shoegaze, and ambient drone styles and composing for jazz, post-rock, rock in opposition, and instrumental rap.

I'm convinced that listening to, playing, and composing in various styles influences how I play and approach things in Brûlez les meubles. I believe I take stylistic elements from different genres to shape my guitar playing. I try to internalize these elements and create my musical personality with them. Sometimes, I embrace certain aspects of a style while rejecting others. For example, I love using drones, reverb, and the "wall of blurry sound" effect in shoegaze, but I don't want to compose harmonic progressions in their style. I prefer to mix my more pessimistic harmonies with their timbral approach. Or, I enjoy using the dissonant harmonies of third-wave black metal bands (like Deathspell Omega and their progeny), but I reject their thematic approaches and tremolo guitar aesthetic.

The more we navigate through different styles, the more we realize that all music is one, and there are no ultimate rules that can be applied everywhere. Structuralism doesn't exist in music. In Beyond Good and Evil and The Genealogy of Morality, Nietzsche was right when he said that good and evil don't exist—they require a frame of reference to be defined. In krautrock, improvisation is considered good, whereas in chanson française, it's bad. I'm interested in artists who transgress the codes of the genre they operate in and those who aren't attached to any particular style, like Robert Wyatt, Xiu Xiu, John Zorn, Julia Holter, etc.

I'm also the main composer and leader in other projects. My albums come from a specific idea I want to explore. In Brûlez les meubles, I see myself less as a leader and more as an interpreter, and the pieces don't emerge from a precise idea of mine.

Lawrence: How did you approach integrating the distinct compositional voices of the different composers whose work you include on the album?

Éric: Louis and I have a strange relationship with scores. We usually send each other pictures of pencil-written melodies, one-page scores, or ideas of covers to play. Then, we try to adapt to our guests and welcome a couple of their songs. Marianne brought some music, and we tried it. I love how we integrated a solo guitar version of Marianne's "Vague," for example.

This time, I brought a new melody and some older ones that I wanted to hear with piano, including "Spider Song," which hides a reference to two classic (1950s–60s) tunes in the chords. Louis, on his side, sent us "instructions pieces" for the first time. We didn't know what would come from this score without melodies or rhythms, so we did two tracks of each, and it turned out well.

Louis: One thing I love about Brûlez les meubles is that I can never imagine the final result. Regardless of the composer, the scores we play are always worked on as a group, with all the musicians deeply involved in the creative process and aesthetic choices. Often, during rehearsals and recordings, we add or remove sections from our pieces to create something coherent. We place an immense amount of trust in the musicians we play with. Since we collaborate with master instrumentalists, creatives, and musicians, we want their personalities to shine in our music. This trust is also an interesting element because, as we constantly change musicians, our aesthetic can vary from one album to the next, even though they all navigate the same waters. Recently, we performed with two drummers, which was aesthetically opposite to Folio #5, even though we played the same repertoire.

Lawrence: Could you tell me about the piece "Conscience du tragique"?

Éric: It's Louis's piece and can be played freely and simply. It's a good moment to include more textural/noisy elements.

Louis: My two compositions on Folio #5 are inspired by Clément Rosset's phrase: "The paradox of joy is the awareness of the tragic." These pieces operate by having the musicians play in smaller groups or within their personal space. No note is imposed. Certain rhythms and constraints are requested from different musicians at different times. The structure is fairly rigid, but the musicians have a lot of room for improvisation.

Lawrence: You've chosen to release this on vinyl and digital formats. What role does the album format, with its distinct sides and sequencing, play in how you structured these compositions?

Louis: The length of the album is a consequence of the duration we could fit onto vinyl. We had more pieces, but we chose them based on the time limit of the vinyl format. It's another interesting limitation. I love CDs; they're still my main source of music listening. I have fans who will only listen to my albums if they have a physical copy. They won't listen to my projects that are only available digitally. So, the physical object is still relevant.

Éric: I love the listening experience of an LP or even a CD you take out of the jacket and put on a proper system. The vinyl is becoming a new luxury object. We wanted to do something different, handmade by artists with limited edition. Isn't it great to have a break after twenty minutes to turn the disc? I love and use all formats (but not streaming): LP, CD, cassette, download... if you have a good system and listening experience, go!