Album Review: Conversations by Bruno Letort – A Hidden Jazz Gem from 1981
Alright, let’s talk about Conversations, the kinda-under-the-radar jazz album by Bruno Letort. Released in 1981 on the French label Auvidis, this record is a smooth ride through Contemporary Jazz and Acoustic vibes. It’s got that laid-back charm you’d expect from something born in France during that era—classy but not trying too hard, y’know? The whole thing feels like a chat over coffee with an old friend. Or maybe like eavesdropping on a really chill conversation between musicians who just get each other.
First off, big props to Bruno for wearing multiple hats here—he wrote most of the tracks, handled art direction, and probably made sure everyone stayed hydrated in the studio. And shoutout to Clément Ziegler for engineering and Barry Mitchell for the cool illustrations. Even Lauwence Cerpolet and Patrick Letort (who did photography) deserve some love because hey, those visuals matter!
Now, onto the music. There are nine tracks total, but I wanna zoom in on two that stuck with me: "Prélude En Forme De Boogie" and "Valse N°1."
The opening track, "Prélude En Forme De Boogie," hits you right away with its playful groove. It’s jazzy, sure, but there’s also this cheeky boogie-woogie vibe running through it. You can tell Bruno had fun writing this one—it’s loose enough to feel spontaneous but tight enough to keep your toes tapping. Like, imagine walking into a smoky Parisian club back in the day; this would be the tune warming up the room before things got serious. It sets the tone perfectly, and honestly, it’s hard not to smile while listening to it.
Then there’s "Valse N°1," which is just… gorgeous. This track slows things down and lets the acoustic instruments breathe. It’s wistful without being overly sentimental, like staring out at a rainy street and feeling oddly okay about life. Jean-Félix Lalanne (who co-wrote this one) clearly brought his A-game here. The melody lingers long after the song ends, and if you’re anything like me, you’ll hit replay more than once.
One thing I dig about this album is how collaborative it feels. With contributions from Claude Engel and Jean-Félix Lalanne, plus producer Nino Fregonese keeping everything cohesive, it’s clear these folks were vibing together. No egos clashing—just good music made with care.
So yeah, Conversations might not have blown up internationally when it came out, but man, it deserves more attention now. If you’re into jazz that doesn’t take itself too seriously but still has depth, give this a spin. Honestly, it’s albums like this that remind me why digging through obscure releases is so rewarding. Sometimes the best stuff flies under the radar.
Oh, and random thought—I wonder if Bruno ever played these tunes live? Like, what if he showed up at a tiny venue somewhere in Lyon or Marseille and just crushed it? That’d be wild. Anyway, go check out Conversations. Trust me, your ears will thank you later.
