Alright, let’s dive into Bernica by Soukouss’, an album that feels like a warm breeze from Reunion Island straight to your ears. Released in 1993 under the label SEDM Oasis Studio, this record blends Folk, World, Country, and Jazz with styles like Fusion, Séga, and Maloya. It’s got that island vibe but also throws some serious musical curveballs. If you’re into music that feels alive, raw, and kinda hard to pin down, this one’s for you.
First off, shoutout to the crew behind this project. You’ve got Jo Valin on lead vocals bringing all the soul, Laurence Beaumarchais adding those lush backing harmonies, and Alain Iva laying down bass lines so smooth they feel like melted butter. Then there’s Philippe Baraka doing double duty on drums AND percussion—guy deserves a medal or at least a really big plate of samosas after that. And can we talk about Denis Payet on sax? Dude brings just enough jazz swagger without stealing the spotlight. The whole thing was recorded and mixed by Sulliman Vally, who clearly knew how to capture the magic without overcooking it.
Now onto the tracks. One that sticks with me is “La Fumée.” It starts off slow, almost like it’s sneaking up on you, but then BAM—it hits you with these hypnotic rhythms and Jo Valin’s voice weaving through it all. There’s something about the way the saxophone dances around the melody; it’s not flashy, just… right. Like when someone tells a story perfectly without needing extra words. This track has this smoky, late-night vibe that makes you wanna sit back with a drink (or three) and think deep thoughts—or maybe just stare out the window pretending you’re in a noir film.
Another standout is “Femmes Des Îles.” Man, this one’s got heart. The guitar work by Lucay Canon is so crisp, it feels like he plucked the strings right out of paradise. Jo’s vocals here are softer, more intimate, almost like he’s whispering secrets only you’re meant to hear. The percussion adds this steady pulse that keeps things grounded while still letting the song float. It’s one of those tunes where halfway through, you realize you’ve been swaying along even if you didn’t mean to. Kinda sneaky like that.
What really gets me about Bernica is how unapologetically itself it is. These guys weren’t trying to fit into any box—they just made what felt good. And honestly? That’s rare. Most albums these days feel like they’ve been focus-grouped to death, but this? Nah. This is real people playing real music because they love it.
Oh, random thought—I wonder if anyone ever danced too hard to “Tambour” and accidentally knocked over their drink. Feels like the kind of song that could make that happen. Anyway, give Bernica a spin if you want something different. Just don’t blame me if you end up booking a flight to Reunion Island afterward.
