22 Super Tounes De Chez Nous: A Raw, Unfiltered Folk Banger from 1975
Alright, let’s get straight to it. 22 Super Tounes De Chez Nous is one of those albums that slaps you in the face with its unapologetic Québécois charm. Released back in '75 on Juke Box International (yeah, Canada repping hard here), this thing screams folk, world, and country vibes without giving a damn about trends or polish. It's raw, real, and hits like a shot of cheap whiskey—burns at first but leaves you wanting more.
Now, I gotta say, not every track sticks, but when they do, oh man, they stick. Take "Le Reel Du Saguenay", for example. This tune grabs you by the collar and drags you into some sweaty barn dance where everyone's stomping their feet so hard the floorboards might collapse. The fiddle work? Insane. Like, how does someone even play that fast without their fingers catching fire? Every time this track comes on, I feel like grabbing the nearest chair leg and using it as an air guitar. No joke.
Then there’s "Et Pi Roule." What can I say? This one feels like driving down a dirt road with the windows down, yelling nonsense lyrics out the window just because you can. It’s got this relentless energy that builds up and doesn’t quit. You know those songs that make you wanna kick over a trash can for no reason? Yeah, this is one of them. It’s messy, chaotic, and absolutely perfect.
The rest of the album ain’t bad either—tracks like “La Contre Danse” and “Le Reel Des Coeurs Joyeux” keep the party rolling—but these two standouts are burned into my brain like last night’s questionable decisions.
Here’s the kicker though: listening to this record feels less like entertainment and more like stepping into someone else’s living room during a family jam session. And honestly? That’s what makes it special. These tunes aren’t trying to impress anyone; they’re just doing their thing, loud and proud.
So yeah, if you’re looking for something smooth and polished, keep scrolling. But if you want music that punches you in the gut and makes you laugh while you’re doubled over, 22 Super Tounes De Chez Nous is your ticket. Just don’t blame me if you find yourself dancing awkwardly in your kitchen at 2 AM.
Oh, and hey—ever wondered why Canadian folk music sounds like it was written by people who’ve been snowed in for six months? Me too. Go figure.
