I wasn’t excessively struck by this album. Not because it contains bad music; the problem lies in the discrepancy between Frederik Croene’s commitment to his semi-ironic theory (basically, the loss of all certainties experienced by a classically trained pianist when the instrument is dismantled) and the actual impact on the listeners. An exhaustive piece-by-piece elucidation adorns the LP’s cover, including a plethora of technical notes about disassembled components and the psychological effects deriving from playing them as such. The choice of vinyl is also related to the process, yet disappointment often prevails upon enlightenment as the whole sounds quite dampened, both sonically and artistically. This is rather inexcusable for a kind of music grounded in extended resonance (mostly elicited by rhythmic hammering, robust thuds and various sorts of rubbing techniques). There aren’t enough memorable ideas to justify an enthusiastic endorsement; only a few isolated events manage to restore some degree of interest. To remain in a comparable ambit, Ross Bolleter’s work with decaying pianos is much more gratifying than what’s heard in Le Piano Démecanisé, whose extent is limited to mere curiosity and, at large, fails to involve.