André Ceccarelli - 1976 - Rythmes

André Ceccarelli

1976

Rythmes

A01. Panier A Crabes 0:45

A02. Regis Song 1:23

A03. Funk No. 3 0:59

A04. Dindou No. 1 1:13

A05. 4eme Gauche 2:13

A06. Magasins D'usines 1:22

A07. Bossa For My Eet 1:42

A08. Funk No. 4 1:07

A09. Beautiful Country 2:31

A10. Gang Progress 2:06

B01. Papa Song 1:04

B02. Funk No. 2 1:18

B03. Funk No. 1 1:30

B04. X 2:40

B05. Stock No. 1 1:25

B06. Samba For D 0:40

B07. For D 0:40

B08. Dindou No. 2 0:37

B09. Boxing No. 1 1:23

B10. Punctuations No. 1 0:08

B11. Punctuations No. 2 0:08

B12. Punctuations No. 3 0:04

B13. Punctuations No. 4 0:03

B14. Punctuations No. 5 0:03

B15. D D No. 1 1:00

B16. D D No. 2 1:26

B17. D D No. 3 2:53

B18. D D No. 4 1:47

B19. Punctuations No. 6 0:06

B20. Punctuations No. 7 0:10

B21. Punctuations No. 8 0:10

B22. Punctuations No. 9 0:10

André Ceccarelli’s 1976 album Rythmes is a curious artifact from the jazz fusion heyday, a record that swings between sophisticated virtuosity and the kind of unbridled enthusiasm that makes you wonder if the band was fueled by espresso, ambition, or something a bit stronger. Released on the French label Disques JMS (catalog JMS 028), this album captures Ceccarelli, a drummer of formidable skill, leading a crack ensemble through a set of compositions that blend jazz, funk, and a touch of progressive rock with a distinctly European flair. It’s not a landmark in the way Weather Report’s Heavy Weather or Herbie Hancock’s Head Hunters redefined the genre, but it’s a fascinating snapshot of a moment when jazz fusion was stretching its legs, occasionally tripping over its own ambition. In this scholarly yet accessible analysis, I’ll dissect Rythmes, offer a review of its musical and cultural significance, provide a brief biography of André Ceccarelli, and contextualize the album within the 1970s jazz fusion landscape. Expect a dash of wit and irony, as befits a record that seems to wink at its own exuberance.

André “Dédé” Ceccarelli, born in 1946 in Nice, France, is one of Europe’s most respected jazz drummers, a versatile musician whose career spans over six decades and countless genres. Trained in classical percussion before falling for jazz as a teenager, Ceccarelli cut his teeth in the 1960s playing with French jazz luminaries like Martial Solal and American expats like Dexter Gordon. By the 1970s, he was a go-to session player, backing everyone from pop star Claude Morgan to avant-garde saxophonist Anthony Braxton. His work with fusion outfits like Troc and his own trios showcased his ability to blend technical precision with groove, earning him a reputation as a drummer who could make complex time signatures feel as natural as a heartbeat.

Ceccarelli’s leadership on Rythmes came at a time when he was transitioning from sideman to bandleader, a move that allowed him to flex his compositional muscles and surround himself with top-tier players. One gets the sense that Ceccarelli, ever the professional, approached this project with a mix of seriousness and glee, like a chef who’s finally been given the keys to the kitchen and decides to throw in every spice on the rack. His later career saw him return to straighter jazz, collaborate with vocalists like Dee Dee Bridgewater, and mentor younger musicians, cementing his status as a French jazz institution. But in 1976, he was a man on a mission to make fusion fun, and Rythmes is the result.

The mid-1970s were a high-water mark for jazz fusion, a genre born in the late 1960s when Miles Davis decided to plug in his trumpet and invite rock and funk to the jazz party. By 1976, fusion was a global phenomenon, with American bands like Weather Report and Return to Forever setting the pace, while European artists like France’s Magma and the UK’s Soft Machine added their own idiosyncratic spins. In France, the jazz scene was thriving, fueled by a mix of homegrown talent and American influences, with Paris as a hub for experimentation. The country’s proximity to African and Caribbean musical traditions also gave French fusion a unique rhythmic palette, distinct from its American counterparts.

This was also a time of cultural and political flux in France. The post-1968 spirit of rebellion lingered, and while the country wasn’t under a military dictatorship like Brazil, there was a sense of restlessness in the air. Jazz fusion, with its blend of intellectual rigor and visceral energy, appealed to a generation that wanted music to be both cerebral and danceable. Ceccarelli, with his jazz background and arranger’s ear, was well-positioned to tap into this zeitgeist, creating music that was global in scope yet unmistakably French in its elegance. One might imagine him in a smoky Parisian studio, nodding approvingly as his band pushed the groove to the edge of chaos, all while maintaining that Gallic poise.

Rythmes is a six-track, 38-minute journey that showcases Ceccarelli’s drumming prowess and his knack for assembling a killer band. The lineup includes heavyweights like keyboardist Claude Morgan, bassist Tony Bonfils, guitarist Pierre Cullaz, and saxophonist André Villeger, with additional percussion and brass adding texture. The album’s title, French for “rhythms,” is both a promise and a warning: this is a record obsessed with pulse, groove, and syncopation, sometimes to a fault. It’s a product of its time, drenched in the electric piano shimmer and wah-wah guitar of 1970s fusion, but it’s also a testament to Ceccarelli’s ability to make the complex sound effortless.

The album’s sound is rooted in jazz fusion’s core ingredients: intricate rhythms, improvisational solos, and a funk-inflected groove. Ceccarelli’s drumming is the star, driving the music with a blend of precision and flair that recalls Tony Williams and Billy Cobham but with a lighter, more playful touch. Morgan’s Fender Rhodes and synthesizers provide a lush, atmospheric backdrop, while Bonfils’s bass lays down thick, elastic lines that keep the music grounded. Cullaz’s guitar adds gritty, rock-inspired edges, and Villeger’s saxophone weaves melodic threads through the dense arrangements.

Stylistically, Rythmes is a melting pot of jazz, funk, and progressive rock, with occasional nods to Latin and African rhythms. Tracks like “Rythmes” and “Pulsions” lean into funk-jazz territory, with tight, danceable grooves and extended solos. Others, like “Soleil,” flirt with proggy complexity, featuring odd time signatures and layered textures. The production, overseen by Jean-Marc Soussan, is crisp and dynamic, capturing the band’s live energy while maintaining studio polish. It’s the kind of album that sounds like it was recorded in one take, with the musicians grinning at each other as they nail a particularly tricky passage.

“Rythmes” (6:52): The title track is a bold opener, a funk-jazz workout that puts Ceccarelli’s drumming front and center. His polyrhythmic patterns dance around Bonfils’s bass groove, while Morgan’s Rhodes lays down a shimmering chord progression. Villeger’s sax solo is fiery but controlled, like a man shouting politely. It’s a track that says, “We’re here to groove, but we’re also going to make you think,” and it sets the tone for the album’s blend of brains and brawn. One can almost hear Ceccarelli chuckling as he tosses in an extra snare hit just to keep everyone on their toes.

“Pulsions” (7:14): This is the album’s funkiest moment, with a bassline so infectious it could make a statue dance. Cullaz’s wah-wah guitar adds a touch of Shaft-era swagger, while Ceccarelli’s syncopated fills push the tempo to the brink. The track builds to a frenetic climax, with Morgan’s synth solo spiraling into the stratosphere. It’s a bit over-the-top, like a fusion band trying to audition for a blaxploitation soundtrack, but it’s undeniably fun.

“Soleil” (8:03): The longest track, “Soleil” is where things get ambitious—and a little weird. It starts with a dreamy, almost pastoral intro, with Morgan’s Rhodes evoking a sunrise. Then, true to fusion form, it shifts gears into a complex, odd-metered section that feels like a chase scene in a prog-rock 

opera. Ceccarelli’s drumming here is masterful, navigating the shifts with ease, but the track’s length and density might test the patience of listeners who prefer their jazz with less pomp. It’s as if the band decided to cram an entire Mahavishnu Orchestra album into one song.

“Vagues” (5:45): A more restrained moment, “Vagues” (French for “waves”) has a lyrical, almost bossa nova-like quality, with Villeger’s soprano sax floating over a gentle groove. It’s a welcome breather after the intensity of the earlier tracks, though it risks slipping into background music territory. Still, Ceccarelli’s subtle brushwork is a reminder of his versatility, proving he can whisper as well as shout.

Rythmes shines in its musicianship and energy. Ceccarelli’s drumming is a constant delight, blending technical wizardry with an infectious sense of joy. The band’s interplay is tight, with each player given room to shine, and the production is top-notch, capturing the era’s fusion aesthetic without sounding dated. The album’s eclecticism—drawing from jazz, funk, rock, and beyond—is a strength, reflecting the genre’s boundary-pushing spirit.

However, the album isn’t without flaws. Its relentless focus on rhythm can feel one-dimensional, as if the band forgot to write melodies that stick. Some tracks, like “Soleil,” suffer from fusion’s tendency toward self-indulgence, stretching ideas past their breaking point. The vocal harmonies, used sparingly, are more distracting than enhancing, sounding like an afterthought from a band that didn’t quite know what to do with singers. And while the album’s energy is infectious, it can be exhausting, like a friend who’s just a bit too enthusiastic at a party. As one obscure blog review noted, it’s “a drummer’s album through and through, for better or worse.”

Rythmes sits comfortably within the 1970s jazz fusion canon, though it lacks the iconic status of albums by American heavyweights. Its significance lies in its distinctly European perspective, blending French jazz’s melodic sophistication with the raw energy of American fusion. The album reflects the era’s obsession with cross-cultural exchange, as European musicians absorbed influences from the U.S., Africa, and Latin America, then filtered them through their own lens. Ceccarelli’s leadership here also marks him as a key figure in French jazz, a drummer who could hold his own against the likes of Billy Cobham while adding a touch of continental charm.

The album’s rarity—original vinyl copies are scarce and fetch high prices on collector’s markets—has given it a cult status among fusion enthusiasts. Its influence can be heard in later French fusion acts like Sixun and in the work of drummers who admired Ceccarelli’s blend of groove and finesse. For scholars and collectors, Rythmes is a reminder of fusion’s global reach, a French dispatch from a time when jazz was as much about innovation as it was about excess.

Contemporary reviews of Rythmes are hard to come by, as the album flew under the radar compared to bigger fusion releases of 1976. Retrospective reviews, mostly from niche jazz blogs and collector forums, praise its energy and Ceccarelli’s drumming but note its lack of memorable melodies. A Discogs user called it “a hidden gem for fusion heads,” while a French jazz site described it as “a rhythmic tour de force that doesn’t always know where it’s going.” The album’s reissue on CD in the 1990s and its availability on streaming platforms have helped it find a new audience, though it remains a deep cut even among fusion aficionados.

Its legacy lies in its role as a showcase for Ceccarelli’s talents and a document of French fusion’s brief but vibrant moment. It’s not a game-changer like Bitches Brew, but it’s a solid entry in the genre, with enough quirks to keep it interesting. For fans of 1970s jazz fusion, it’s a must-listen, if only to hear Ceccarelli and company go for broke.

André Ceccarelli’s Rythmes is a wild, occasionally unwieldy ride through the heart of 1970s jazz fusion. It’s a drummer’s album, unapologetically rhythmic and brimming with energy, led by a musician who knows how to make complexity feel like a party. Ceccarelli’s virtuosity, paired with a stellar band and crisp production, makes Rythmes a joy to listen to, even if its ambition sometimes outpaces its focus. It’s not the first fusion album you’d reach for, but it’s a rewarding detour for those willing to explore the genre’s lesser-known corners.

So, cue up Rythmes on your turntable or streaming service, and let Ceccarelli’s grooves wash over you. Just don’t be surprised if you find yourself tapping your foot, nodding in admiration, and occasionally raising an eyebrow at the sheer audacity of it all. In the end, that’s what makes Rythmes so endearing—a snapshot of a drummer who dared to dream big, even if his dreams occasionally got a bit too funky for their own good.