Patrcik Portella & Joseph Racaille, Les Flots Bleus (side A)

I'm familiar with Joseph Racaille's remarkable work with ZNR, but Patrick Portella's background apart from this album remains mysterious to me.  ZNR's albums stand out for their juxtaposition of austere simplicity with an unusual and damaged creative vision.  1983's Les Flots Bleus retains these qualities, but feels a lot easier to parse.  The results are weirdly less engaging, because the absurd lack of reference is what makes ZNR so special.  While some of the sounds here are hard to identify, others seem like an acoustic piano.  The keyboards play repeating rhythms that vaguely reference ragtime, even as the melodies float over them.  When human voices emerge on side B, they're clear and purposely well-recorded and mixed.  The structures are again simple, stating one coherent idea and quickly moving on.  There are definitely keyboards used — other sounds seem to come from reed instruments, but it often feels hard to discern.  Where the ZNR records look austere and challenging, Les Flots Bleus uses an absurd and ironic package that masks any intentions of the album's creation.  The sound quality is clear, if slightly undifferentiated — the use of a 45 RPM release does not noticeably add low or high frequency detail.