l'Oumigmag: Ce Qui Tourne Dans L'Air

"Oumigmag" means "muskox" in Inuktitut, one of the principal Inuit languages spoken in Canada's northeast and central northern provinces. Sébastien Sauvageau, a multi-instrumentalist and composer based in Québec, drew on his province's musical and Indigenous histories to create the jazz-folk project l'Oumigmag—an effort, he writes, to explore "how past elements (traditional music), present experiences, and future innovations coexist and influence one another."

l'Oumigmag debuted as a quartet on Territoires (The 270 Sessions, 2017), expanded to a sextet for the double album Habitant (Self-Produced, 2019), then pared back to a quintet for Ce Qui Tourne dans l'Air (What Spins in the Air). Beyond composing, Sauvageau provides guitar, vocals, synths, and electronics. He is joined by Dâvi Simard (fiddle and foot percussion), Alex Dodier (saxophone, bass clarinet, and synths), Stéphane Diamantakiou (bass) and Sam Joly (drums and synths). With their third album, the group joins the roster of Nik Bärtsch's Ronin Rhythm Records, which continues to embrace a diverse range of styles—from the Zeuhl-tinged postminimalism of Ikarus to the avant-garde neo-classical works of Luzius and Laura Schuler. Ce Qui Tourne's polyrhythms and pulsing woodwinds make it a perfect fit for the growing label, and its unique cultural background promises to take Ronin Rhythm in new directions. 

Ce Qui Tourne wears emotion and melody more openly on its sleeve than one might expect from a postminimalist-influenced project. Most tracks are grounded in Sauvageau's elegant acoustic guitar arpeggios—inspired by traditional Canadian fiddle themes—and the rousing fiddle of Simard. Throughout, the album merges the historic with the contemporary: foot-stomping (known in Québec as podorythmie) blends seamlessly with spirited string performances and gossamer ambient hues.

The previous double album conjured an earthy intimacy, like a fireside gathering, with a tantalizing mix of jazz and folk. Here, the sound palette expands toward more celestial heights, incorporating granular synthesis, post-rock-inspired dynamics, and a gauzy electronic haze that blends gracefully with acoustic strings ("Ce qui s'écoule"). These elements culminate in several rousing highs—notably the enthralling title track, which features the experimental vocals of Swedish singer Erika Angell. Her vocals carry a stream-of-consciousness quality, driven more by emotion than logic, backed by a supple, Nik Bärtsch-esque polyrhythmic groove that soars alongside Simard's melody.

In the liner notes, Sauvageau describes the project as "jazz aesthetic wrapped in ambient," not unlike how The Blue Nile cloaked their distinctive folk sensibility in an ambient sheen on Hats (Linn/A&M, 1989), or how The Gloaming reimagined Irish folk as chamber music with airy, ECM-like production. The outcome is a contemplative yet driving mélange of styles, rooted in Québécois tradition and blossoming into something gloriously atmospheric.