The voice does not push the note. A voice not quite out of the woods, which cherishes its corner of Abitibi. The music, equally delicate, benefits from the care taken by Amélie Mandeville in the production. Quartet of strings and guitars weave a blanket on which, here and there, a Wurlitzer (by Martin Lizotte), an electric guitar (by Louis-Jean Cormier) and percussion (by Laurie Torres) color the patterns. It gives beauty, attentive songs combined with us, close to indigenous creators, Soleil Launière the Innu companion, Roger Wylde the Anishinabe accomplice. Everything is discretion and hope: “We will replant our garden / the earth between your little hands / your heart that grows next to mine” (Confetti). We are not in a small paradise of good feelings: we must extricate ourselves from the racego through The Great Extinction. Nothing is won yet, but this first complete album by Lessard makes us want to hold each other tight.
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