The blues has taken on many different forms since its genesis, however far back you want to trace it, but it seems to have reached another new conceptual level in Felk. This ain't no Stevie Ray Vaughn, kids. Imagine Pan Sonic crossed with a French Jandek (but who could actually sing when he felt the need). It could be a modern day Harry Smith artifact. Or just imagine a blues abum on a French avant-garde record label with David Grubbs writing the liner notes.

This album is definitely not something you put on to relax, or play at a party. Instead, it feels almost like an audio documentary of this man's life, which makes for more of an experience than mere "good tunes". I say this because much of Felk was recorded in Olivier's home, and any incidental noises were intentionally left in. These noises slowly begin to take on more importance, and three distinct characters form a triangular relationship throughout the album: Olivier Lambin (aka Red), his two daughters (who can be heard on no less than five songs and whose pictures frequent the album art) and the pure, always-present electric noise which David Grubbs calls "The Annoyance".

Appropriately enough, the album starts with McKinley Morganfield's "Baby Please Don't Go", which sounds more like an ode to Red's actual baby daughter than to a lover. Red's deep, vibrating bellowing randomly explodes over a quietly wanked blues guitar, setting an appropriately eerie tone for the rest of the album.

Both songs about drinking, "The Drunkards" and "Dyin' in the Wine", coincidentally happen to be my favorites. Red's voice is so deep and sorrowful that I have no problem actually calling this the Blues.

When Red sings Hanks Williams' "I Saw the Light", it seems like a cryptic response to Lou Reed's "I'm beginning to see the light." His voice is as lifeless as the mechanically-strummed guitar and the menacing electro pulses that overtake him. I can picture him sitting back in his home studio, little girl running around screaming, eyes half shut in pure exhaustion. "No more sorrow...no more fright." It ultimately comes off as Red chasing something down, and getting so near to failing that he almost gives up -- or fools himself into believing he's caught it, whatever it is.

Felk's last two songs are the most disturbing. One of the album's truly fucked-up, nihilistic moments comes during a David Byrne song, when we hear daughter Margot playing in the background, while Red sings "You're on a road to nowhere..." in his deepest, most solemn voice yet. It's almost more disturbing that he's singing in a language she does not even understand. The album climaxes with its last song, in which an argument breaks out between the daughter and the previously absent mother. Red, still barely strumming his warm acoustic guitar, sings "I know I'm so ugly. I get on in my own special way...my own special way." At first one might conclude that music is Red's escape from his daily reality, of which he lets us have a glimpse, and the persistent noise acts as the barrier between the two. I slowly realized that his children are "His own special way" to get by, and his sorrow lies solely in the music. It is The Blues, after all. "The Annoyance" fades to silence.