Crumhorn, chalumeau, recorders long-necked lute played in the manner of a baialaika, polyphony with everything doubled at the octave, and a wide range of heavily active percussion characterize this record. The sound is generally that of the more extreme 'Arabist' approaches of the 1960s, transformed by the technical wizardry of the late 1980s. In his note, Berry Hayward explains that the record is devised on the principle that ''understanding is imagination connected to comparative structural research''. Er, yes.
Of course the Feast of Fools is a good theme on which to use the idea that anything goes as long as it doesn't scare the horses. There is plenty of evidence that this was an occasion to invert all the accepted social values of the time, and there is every reason to accept that the same applied to musical values. So it would be beside the point to view this record on the basis of either historical probability or aesthetic pleasure.
Apart from chants and polyphony associated with either the Feast of Fools or the liturgy for New Year's Day (when it traditionally took place), the record includes most of the 'instrumental' repertory of the thirteenth century (the Estampies royales, the hockets from the Montpellier manuscript and so on), two motets associated with Adam de la Halle (played impressively as instrumental pieces), and two energetic if mercifully brief crowd scenes.
Technically, the playing is mostly very good. There is excellent playing on a wire-strung harp. There is an absolutely stunning drum break in the middle of one of the estampies. The choir sing some ambitious lines with precision and enthusiasm. And everything has plainly been prepared with considerable care, as can be heard particularly in the sudden silences or the gradual speed changes. Moreover—uniquely, in my experience of this kind of approach—none of the bands outstays its welcome, though some may feel that the record as a whole does so.'