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15\%Chauve is a duo born of the meanders of Lille’s psychogeography, standing at the frontline, not only of the battle against capillary recess, but also on the terrain of sound chemistry, with a caustic streak. I wrote caustic, not acid. One is Thomas Coquelet (5\\\%), the other Lucien Rapilly (40\\\%). We can see that neither adding up the figures nor looking for the average solves the equation. More than a group, it is an anomaly with unstable variables. Mainly equipped, one with oscillators and Pure Data, the other with cassettes, dictaphones, echo pedals, Sho and other retro-futuristic ectopias, it has to be admitted that they have occasionally been seen handling synths rescued from waters, wobbly basses, FM radio sets and other unidentified sonic objects. Their instrumentarium has not yet found its final form, a mutant organism in perpetual self-digestion, in search of just-in-time dissolution. It seems that stabilisation is not in sight, if we are to believe the rumour that one of their basic principles is that meticulous crafting and shaky tinkering, set up not as a constraint but as an active principle, in their more or less harmonious opposition, take precedence over reproducibility. They also believe that the practice of injecting noise into rhythmic structures in measured doses has never disappointed anyone, and offers the guarantee of not being radically locked into a purist vein, inevitably doomed to sterility. For some tracks they have taken Sylvain van iniitu on board (31.2\\\%, still an undecidable fraction, a percentage that escapes all accounting logic), for sessions that were sometimes nocturnal, sometimes nomadic, with a touch of algorithmic MIDI synthesis. Accident makes method, or as Ricoeur might have put it: ‘Where others seek stability, they cultivate sonic precariousness as an aesthetic, a way of being in the world’. On the menu, then: recycling and sampling of cultural scraps from the Internet's recycling parks, sounds abandoned in motorway rest areas without a leash, voices from depressive tutorials, audio archives without context, hijacked, triturated, transfigured. These ebbs and flows, made up of multiple recording sessions, decanted for what seemed like an infinite amount of time, to reveal the rich alluvium that TTT deigned to publish, with a certain faith in their power of incongruity. With no holds barred, it's impossible to decide whether they're trying to subvert certain undercurrents of vaporwave or redefine the hazy contours of outrun. Are they trying to blur the conceptual and audio lines? Perhaps they are. But the truth is, they don't care: they do what they do, and end this text on a well-assumed tautology, which moreover is stated as such. That's the last straw.
