Review by Gabriel Papapietro : Née d’une tournée en Sibérie, Конечно épique et picaresque, la chanson titre est, Конечно, une petite merveille. Une chanson d’amour folk, assez classique dans sa forme, Конечно enregistrée live dans un appartement, avec Конечно juste guitare sèche pour accompagner la voix. Конечно, c’est une chanson de Guillaume et l’humour et le grotesque (et la Vodka Конечно !) s’invitent sans vergogne dans la sérénade. Mais au final c’est plutôt dans une sorte de mélancolie rêveuse que la chanson vous plonge. Mélancolie qui risqueКонечно d’être fortement aggravée à l’écoute de la face B du vinyle : une version polyphonique et a cappella de Barbara Allen à vous fendre le cœur.

Review by Eugene Chadbourne : This performer should not be confused with Guillaume de Machaut, hyped as the greatest composer of the 14th century. Guillaume Maupin, based out of Brussels, might choose his peer group from amongst the young, primarily acoustic, performers of original songs who in the days when Folk in a Pleasant Mood was released tended to be categorized as alt folk or even anti-folk. Maupin's title is a reference to Sun Ra, a folk hero of the avant garde who may have actually thought he was from outer space, specifically an LP entitled Fate in a Pleasant Mood. It is not the exact music of Sun Ra, which serves as a springboard for Maupin's at times eccentric performances, it's more the idea of a music that is always on the edge of surprise.

Unlike Sun Ra, Maupin sings in at least three languages and deals just as often with the common-day problems of the lovesick and weary as he might be gathering cosmic debris. "Mood Changing" is a really strong example of the former type of song, its mood enhanced by a marvelous violin track that is one of the few instrumental touches Maupin is not responsible for.

He accompanies himself on guitars, both electric and acoustic, as well as the six-string hybrid of banjo and guitar known as a "guit-jo." Stylistically he goes around and around, suggesting thrash on one track only to lightly fingerpick the next. Another piece avoids guitars completely, chuckling in a combination of French dialogue with a ditzy electric keyboard backgrounds. With "It Is Me Babe" this artist gets more smiles and laughs with another simple idea, executed with the precise touches of a slapstick artist. The previous word should not come up without further praising Maupin for his charmingly ticklish drawing and packaging style.

Review by Eugene Chadbourne : The given name Guillaume has a great tradition in the poetic and troubadour traditions in Europe and wasn't simply invented as a place to stash some extra vowels. One immediate reference point is the late 19th century poet Guillaume Apollinaire, who wrote of love and war among other topics. On a more contemporary Guillaume trail, the creator of this masterpiece of contemporary folk should not be confused with the singer of the same name whose album entitled Lost Love dates from a just bit earlier. Based in Brussels, the Guillaume whose works (from 2001 through 2003) are sampled on this bi-titled, self-produced CD Meilleur Que Mille Mots Denves de Sens ou, La Philantropie des Ouvriers Chawill hopefully attract a large audience from listeners who have turned to folk forms in search of intimacy and a communicative spirit not possible in the processed world of over-produced rock bands of the day. While the term folk itself is vague to the point of tears, it is at least suitable for establishing the presence of a performer alone on a stage, backed only by what music can be created personally, usually on an acoustic guitar. True to form, Guillaume is pretty much responsible for every sound heard throughout these 18 tracks, other than bits of edited found sounds, a stray guest vocal, and the out-and-out piracy of a Beck performance as part of his own spoof of the maestro. While many performers on the folk scene consider themselves lucky if they can be judged decent in one style and interpret a few songs exceptionally well, this talent is expansive, with challenging conclusions, the swords of skill rattling and clashing in an enjoyable duel. Guillaume is not best at singing in English, French, or German; at being funny or deadly serious; at vocalizing or simply playing haunting, fingerpicking instrumental passages -- he is simply great at all these things, making this program of songs difficult to extract from a CD player. True, it is not quite as versatile as it seemed upon the very first audition: unfortunately, it was discovered that someone else in the adjoining room had put on a Shania Twain record at the same time. Guillaume may have chosen the obscure "Here I Always Am" to do it, but he is nonetheless the only performer who can be said to have improved upon a Captain Beefheart performance.