Interviews – Page 81

PAN M 360: You live in Shanghai, but are originally from Shenzhen. Are those cities good creative environments? Are you involved in the arts community in Shanghai?

lisalyz: Shanghai definitely has one of the best music scenes in China. People are incredibly nice and supportive, and I don’t really think I would make music if I weren’t here. I’m not actually involved in the community, but more like a fan going to events on weekends, listening to some great club music that I couldn’t make, and chilling.

Shenzhen is a new city. It’s more like a cultural desert but luckily, OIL Club turned up in time. People are struggling to make the scene better there – it’s harder than it seems. Hopefully they made it now. Both cities are great for producers to live in, in my opinion.

PAN M 360: The raw material for Still is what I’d call “antique” Chinese traditional and popular music. How did the music on Still come to exist? What was the original idea?

lisalyz: As I get older, I’m more obsessed with Chinese traditional music, which I totally resisted when I was a kid. The obsession came to a peak earlier this year when I was stuck quarantined with my parents back home. I listened to probably 10 times more traditional music than I used to. I found myself extremely peaceful while listening, and got inspired a lot. Chinese traditional music has five tones – gong, shang, jue, zhi, and yu – and they even have specific recommended times based on the five tones, corresponding to different internal organs, and insane stuff like that, for musical therapy. It’s incredible.

PAN M 360: What were your resources? Old records, or new recordings of the instruments?

lisalyz: Both. I normally sampled a bit of old records as a base, and added new instruments on the top of that.

PAN M 360: Each individual track has a particular spirit. For instance, “Da Nian San Sher” is very playful and festive, while “Sunfalling” feels more formal and dignified, like music for an important parade or procession. “Moon Shines Over the Western Chamber” and “Hermit Descend on a Sandbank” are more serene and contemplative. What do you feel the tracks express?

lisalyz: “Da Nian San Sher” refers to Chinese New Year’s Eve in Chinese. It’s my favourite festival of all time, and I made that one in a CNY mood right before I went back home for the holidays. The original record I sampled on “Moon Shines Over the Western Chamber”, titled “Romance of the Western Chamber”, is a type of Cantonese music called hanyue. It’s also a well-known play about a love story.

“Hermit Descend on a Sandbank” was sampled from a really famous guqin [plucked Chinese zither] track called “Wild Geese Descend on the Sandbank”, showing the attitude of not caring much about fame and wealth, but focusing more on inner tranquility, just like a hermit.

I didn’t really have a lot of particular thoughts in mind while making these tracks, to be honest. But in general, I guess the thing I’m trying to tell is, we’re living in this crazy world. Be “still”, find your inner peace, and everything will be a whole lot easier.

PAN M 360: There’s a lot of light trap style in your production, especially on “Waterflowing”. What kind of modern music, or even particular artists, inspire you?

lisalyz: There’s this anti-depression track I played a lot in recent years – Young Peach, “u already know”, produced by Swimful/Damacha. It’s a cheesy one. I love it a lot and have a good laugh every single time I play it. For “Waterflowing”, I guess I just got influenced by the way they made that beat, without noticing myself. I love wave music as well. I think trap is one of the elements that it contains. Artists like Kareful, Downstate, Haven, Pholo, LJC, and Khemist are inspiring.

PAN M 360: Do you have any other music projects in the works? After Still, it will be very interesting to hear what comes next.

lisalyz: Yeah, I keep making stuff, but I would love to make something more creative and exciting that I’m not capable of at the moment.

The Orb recently released Abolition of the Royal Familia, their 16th album. Known for its space flights that often furnished the chill-out rooms of yesterday’s raves – who doesn’t remember the ambient anthem “Little Fluffy Clouds” – The Orb also dipped into house and quite a bit of electronic dub, notably in the company of the mythical Lee Scratch Perry. On this new effort, conceived in the company of the young British producer Michael Rendall and a handful of collaborators, The Orb offers an amalgamation of all the styles tackled over a 30-year career, with a denunciation of imperialism and the British royal family as a backdrop. PAN M 360 spoke with the legendary and somewhat eccentric Dr. Alex Paterson, who has guided – more or less alone – the destiny of The Orb since its beginnings in 1988.

PAN M 360: It seems the album is intended in part as a protest against the British royal family’s historical endorsement of the East India Company’s role in the opium trade. Can you elaborate on that?

Alex Paterson: It is indeed, in a small way. History repeats itself because the royal bloodlines of Europe want it to repeat itself. The East India company was set up under the guise of trade, like tea and sugar. But in many ways, it was like a secret operation of the royal Government, run by freemasons. And there’s a story of Jesus settling in the south of France to raise a family. Was this the Knights Templar’s secret? But back to the opulent Boxers Rebellion – i.e., opium wars. Sending opium to the Chinese and getting their nation hooked on it, and then stealing Hong Kong for the empire. Listen to “Empire Song” by Killing Joke. They got it. History is always written by the victor. New France is a perfect example, it’s now Canada. How old is the queen on your bank notes? And how do you feel about a royal couple settling in B.C.? One per cent own the world. Do you see the queen giving up any of her many estates to the common folk to help with Coronavirus? Shit no.

PAN M 360: What’s your take on the royal family?

Alex Paterson: Not much. The English revolution was fixed. Locally they’re called ‘the firm’. That sums it up.

PAN M 360: Can you explain how the album was conceived?

Alex Paterson: On tour last year with Michael Rendall, we seemed to agree on many things. We seem to work very fast in the studio. We trust our ears, hearts and instant fun, as nothing is a mistake, just a happy accidental ripple. We applied the landscaping and the artists planted seeds in the garden of The Orb. We waited six months and the album was born! Basically we started last year in August, and it was all done and dusted by Halloween.

PAN M 360 : Youth, Roger Eno, Steve Hillage, Jah Wobble and the other guests… What wastheir input in the creation or recording of the music?

Alex Paterson: So many friends, romans and countrymen! Gaudi on synth and Violeta on strings, as well as the usuals. Wobble couldn’t make it on this album, but he will appear on the next one (which we are planning at the moment).

PAN M 360: Would you say this album could be like a coherent overview of what The Orb has done in the last 30 years? A word on that?

Alex Paterson: LESS DRINK MORE SMOKE! It’s the first time since The Orb’s Adventures Beyond the Ultraworld that I produced an album with such huge help from someone. This time, it was from young Michael [Rendall].

PAN M 360: Tell us a bit about the pacing of the album.

Alex Paterson: It was put together as you would buy a double vinyl. Sides 1 and 3, dance and reggae, sides 2 and 4, ambient. As a DJ, it’s a good tool… disc jockey, a thing from the distant past. Look them up in museums near you. Anyways, it’s an easy pace, easy to keep up with and a bit poetic on the last tune.

PAN M 360: I read somewhere that Stephen Hawking liked your music. Is the track “Hawk Kings” a tribute to the late physicist?

Alex Paterson: I’ve become friends with Stepen Hawking’s son, Tim. He managed for myself and my partner to go to see Stephen at a lecture in the ’00s, in London. We were even invited to meet him and the rest of his family after his lecture. This moment, and being in Berlin when the wall came down, are probably the two most amazing moments of my life. I found out that Stephen listened to the first two albums while travelling between tours he was doing in Europe in the mid ’90s. It seemed natural to do a heads-up to a brilliant man.

PAN M 360 : Is “Slave Till U Die No Matter What U Buy (L’Anse Aux Meadows Mix)” a remake of, or a nod to, Jello Biafra’s “Message From Our Sponsors”? How punk or anti-establishment are you?

Alex Paterson: Original punk! This is a version of “Bodies”, a Sex Pistols song, with myself on vocals! How punk are you? I hate capitalism, by the way.

[EDITOR’S NOTE: Paterson was a roadie for Killing Joke for a long time, and continues to work with bassist Youth]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=25&v=iFJoqKo08Q8&feature=emb_logo.

PAN M 360 : The album is overflowing with absurd tracks titles. What place does humor or nonsense have in your music?

Alex Paterson: Inside your mind, someone’s always laughing. Are they laughing with you? Or at you? With nonsense humour, it’s a magical gate to another track.

PAN M 360: Abolition Of The Royal Familia was made many months before this pandemic, but it still closes with this: “Stay in your homes… no more than two people may gather anywhere without permission”. What do you have to say about that? You must have been stunned when you realized…?

Alex Paterson: Poetic justice. Indeed, the future is today. Have you seen Years And Years? It’s set in the near future and they have shut [influential conspiracy theorist] David Icke down now, for telling the truth. Welcome to the open prison Earth, locked up.

PAN M 360 : Does this pandemic crisis and lockdown inspire you?

Alex Paterson: No, not really. It’s anxiety time and there’s a load of shit going down we know nothing about, other than our freedom is not so free right now.

PAN M 360: What is the music you enjoy listening in times like these?

Alex Paterson: Ambient and reggae. Try tuning into WNBC.london, it’s our own radio station without news, weather reports and adverts, 24/7. Meanwhile, wash your hands, don’t touch your face, and listen to the album before curfew!

PAN M 360 : How did [musician, DJ and producer] Andy Weatherall’s recent passing affect you? Were you guys close?

Alex Paterson: It was a real shock to all of us that were in his circle of friends. I was closer than most people. I just feel for his girlfriend and music partners, Nina and the Sabres of Paradise crew. RIP, Andrew.

Photo credit: Chris MacArthur

Like everyone else, NOBRO had plans. Plans for concerts with Pussy Riot at the CMW in Toronto, tours and festivals in Quebec and elsewhere… and like everyone else, those plans fell through, for obvious reasons. But there’s one project that hasn’t been cancelled, rather simply postponed for a few weeks, and that’s the release of the 4-track EP Sick Hustle, on the Toronto label Dine Alone, and the accompanying video clip. “The music video is for the song ‘Don’t Die…’ We were supposed to release all this stuff a few weeks ago, but with everything that’s happened, we thought it might not be the best idea to release it too soon,” explains drummer Sarah Dion, interviewed along with keyboard-percussionist Lisandre Bourdages, both of them in quarantine after a trip to Mexico. “We thought maybe the timing wasn’t right. I know it’s a cartoon, there’s nothing creepy or sinister about it, but we thought we’d wait a bit until the panic over the pandemic thing died down and our song wasn’t misinterpreted.”

Formed about six years ago by the fiery bassist and singer Kathryn McCaughey, NOBRO has seen many musicians pass through its ranks before arriving at the current configuration – a mutation that has transformed the sound and energy of the Montreal band. Today, the four musicians, with Karolane Carbonneau on the six-strings, play a furious mix of heavy rock – and a bit of pop – that would make L7 blush.

“When Kathryn started the band, her idea was to bring together the flashiest and most show-off musicians, put them on a stage and make fast and intense songs with them,” says the metronomic Sarah Dion. “It was really a statement, and the band’s name leaves no room for innuendo. No bro. A first EP was released in 2015, but only Kathryn from the current band was on it. Then Lisandre, Karolane and I all arrived at different times. I’d say it’s been about a year and a half since the four of us have been playing together, and this is our first record. It’s quite different from what the old band used to do. It’s like a new start.”

“It was a lot more punk before, more knockabout,” adds Lisandre Bourdages, who is also in the Shirley line-up with Sarah Dion, and Comment Debord with Karolane Carbonneau. “Now, I’d say that we’re putting more time and work into the search for tonalities, into the composition of the songs. It’s more complex and we have more confidence. The sound is much richer, less punk and more ’70s rock, stoner and even pop. We follow a lot of Kathryn’s influences – T-Rex, Betty Davis, Black Sabbath, MC5… As for me, I studied Latin percussion, Sarah had a reggae band, Karolane was in a free-jazz combo… So when you put it all together, you make sure that all these influences are coherent.”

F-Rock

Calling themselves a feminist rock band, the NOBRO girls point out, however, that this stance is not really reflected in the quartet’s lyrics. “I see myself more as a musician in a rock band,” Dion admits. “But the basic idea, the statement in fact, is that NOBRO is a group of girls who rock. To show that four women together are capable of mastering their instruments superbly, and tearing it up. But as the years go by, we’re finding that it’s becoming less and less rare to see bands made up entirely of women. The day it’s the norm, then I’ll say we’ve won our case.”

photo: Patrick O’Brien

PAN M 360: In your opinion, what’s changed with your new album?

Ishmael Butler: I don’t really think about the things done on this new album. The objective is not to achieve something specific, it’s more about relaying these unspeakable things, guided by the laws of nature. When you get high and make music, vibrations are generated, emotions are translated into music and words.

PAN M 360: Yes, but… deep down, what do you think you’ve accomplished with this new album?

Ishmael Butler: I hope that this is not a rehashing of what I did before. I always try to do something different. I try to grow artistically by incorporating new ideas, which is what I’ve been doing since I was a child. You know, artists have their own personality, I don’t really know what mine is and I think it’s better for me to see it that way. I wouldn’t necessarily describe my own music as ‘advanced’ hip hop, as some people say. For my part, I’m not in a position to analyze or define. I’m in a position to act. It’s about living and doing things, having the idea of a form and developing it.

PAN M 360: Specifically, how did you work on the concept of The Don of Diamond Dreams?

Ishmael Butler: I’m always creating songs – on my computer, in the studio, in people’s homes after a show, wherever possible. When I have free time, I compile the work I’ve done, then I distill it into smaller, more precise formats. Then there’s the lyrics, the instrumental supplements, the final reduction and the mixing. Some patterns emerge then, an overall sound, an atmosphere, an environment. The whole thing took place over a period of about a year.

PAN M 360: What is your creative equipment and how do you use it?

Ishmael Butler: Here is my gear: Ableton sequencer, guitars, keyboards, effect pedals, vocal filters, wind instruments, string instruments, bass, percussion. I always buy new material, it induces new ideas. Also, I’m looking to meet artists who have new approaches, new ideas. I also like to learn how to play popular songs and understand how they are made, that leads me to a thousand new ideas. It’s like a snowball that gets bigger when it goes down a slope.

PAN M 360: In front of an audience, do you perform with a group of musicians?

Ishmael Butler: Preferably yes, but… If you’re paid a certain amount of money for a tour, you can’t take ten people with you, because your budget doesn’t allow it. Often the restriction is directly related to your tour budget. There are also other considerations. Let’s take the example of Flying Lotus, with whom I’ve already toured. He’s chosen to offer a visual experience in line with his music, so he devotes a large part of his financial resources to this visual aspect, and therefore chooses to simplify his musical presentation. And you know, fans often want to see and hear one person. But things can change; we can see some hip hop or electronic artists on stage with the baddest cats.

PAN M 360: Who are the people who collaborated on this album?

Ishmael Butler: I first composed all the music, beats and preliminary arrangements. I then worked with Darrius Willrich, keyboards and guitars, Evan Flory-Barnes, bassist extraordinaire from Seattle, Otis Calvin on keyboards, Erik Blood, bass, Carlos Niño, percussion, Carlos Overall, saxophone. Purple Tate Nate, Stas THEE Boss, and Carlos Overall are each featured in one song. They all add their own interpretation of the original mood, taking my songs to different places. I then fine-tuned by grafting their sounds to my songs. Erik Blood and I then mixed the whole thing at Studio 4 Labs in Venice, with the help of Andy Kravitz. As a result, we have a quality of sound that we have never had on other Shabazz Palaces albums.

PAN M 360: Can you briefly describe the purpose of the three songs on The Don of Diamond Dreams?

Ishmael Butler: “Thanking the Girls” evokes all the beautiful women I have known, who have shared their experiences and generosity with me. “Ad Ventures” is dedicated to the people of Black Constellation, my artistic family in which I create and grow. “Reg Walks by the Looking Glasses” is dedicated to my father, who loves the saxophone.

PAN M 360: Looking at your lyrics, you’re a chronicler of both public and private life – neither sphere seems to prevail.

Ishmael Butler: I have the impression that all these things in life, public or private, flicker together. Heaps of layers overlap and make up our perception of reality. When you try to distance yourself from your emotions and your life experience, you find that there is no dividing line. In my mind, everything fits together. At first glance, I’m not hyper-strong in all the subjects I deal with, but rather I have a global approach. I’m guided first and foremost by my instincts.

PAN M 360 : Beyond hip hop, do you listen to other music?

Ishmael Butler: Yes, a lot. New alternative music, experimental music, weird music of all kinds. I like music in general, if a song is good, that’s what counts. What do I like at the moment? Jpeg Mafia, Kamasi Washington, Ariel Pink, Yves Tumor, a hundred others! I go through the playlists, podcasts and videos I get sent. I’m interested in young people, I don’t think the new hip hop is lame or weak. But I think a lot of young hip hop artists don’t have that sensitivity for what older people like me consider substantial, but that doesn’t make them any less substantial in my mind. The value of a work rests on the emotional responsibility and instinct of the artist observing reality. People my age might describe recent works as empty, repetitive or lacking in creativity and… none of these impressions are my concern.

PAN M 360: What is your general perception of hip hop in 2020?

Ishmael Butler: Hip hop is a form that is less easy to circumscribe than it was at its beginnings. Rather, hip hop has become a global, multi-genre phenomenon. The term hip hop cannot perfectly describe this phenomenon, this hip hop that has become global nevertheless remains a reflection of its time. We are going through a period that is at the same time materialistic, nihilistic, absurd, excessive… and hip hop creators are a reflection of this through their creative work. In the United States where I am, just look at our political situation, the crisis of the pandemic and the resulting stock market crash – hip hop will testify to this as it has done since its early beginnings.

“I must say, the hardest challenge for me is to not make the tracks too busy with all kinds of percussion layers,” says Nicola Mauskovic. “I really like creating new rhythms, but it’s not always beneficial for the song to completely squeeze it full of busy congas and guiras.”

Seems like a sensible approach, given that the group the Amsterdam-based musician and producer leads, The Mauskovic Dance Band, makes music that’s already packed to bursting with all kinds of stuff. Their first full album, an eponymous release on the Soundway label last year (after several EPs on Swiss imprint Bongo Joe), showcased their tangle of dizzy space disco, effervescent Afro-Colombian motifs, and outré NYC punk-funk, steeped in a stew of hallucinogenic howls and haunting chants, rubber-band basslines, eerie synth licks and enigmatic echoes.

Sounds like a lot of upbeat fun, and it is, but that’s a bit deceptive. Insinuated into the MDB’s sound is a subtle but certain streak of unease. “I think the hypnotic element in our music, from the repetitive rhythms, gives it kind of a darker atmosphere,” says Mauskovic.

“I have the feeling some people tend to see rhythmic music as happy music,” Mauskovic continues. “Or as soon if there is an upbeat groove, and congas or other percussion, the music is party music. Which for me isn’t the case.

“A lot of the ’70s and ’80s music from West Africa – which I listen to a lot – has, for me, a pretty dark or melancholy atmosphere. But definitely still danceable! I mean, I don’t consider techno, which is definitely made for the dancefloor, happy music.”

Let’s say, then, that MDB’s music isn’t so much gleeful as it is gregarious, in the zoological sense. A demonstration of human gathering as celebration – and in ordinary times, survival mechanism.

Mauskovic himself is a promiscuous player, with a resumé that includes Turk-psych revivalists Altin Gün, Zambian garage-rock elders W.I.T.C.H., and chamber-pop purveyor Jacco Gardner, with whom he formed the delirious duo Bruxas. Nonetheless, the MDB’s music begins in a solitary context.

“Working alone is for me the best way to really experiment and trying new things. Nobody is waiting for a result, or for when they can start to play their take. But in the end, we always finish the song with the full band, so it becomes more organic and live.”

The MDB took that principle one step further in their choice of where to record their album. Amsterdam’s Garage Noord might not match Abbey Road in its technical standards, but the atmosphere was perfect for Mauskovic and company.

“It’s a pretty smoky nightclub on the weekends, so the studio space is often used as an after-party place or the smoking room. But this also gives a good vibe to the place. It’s basically the storage room of the club, where they have a little recording set-up in the corner.

“The club and the band fit very well together. They program all kinds of music in the club but it always has a focus on the experimental, and percussive rhythms. A place where punk and techno come together.”

The approach was a bit different for MDB’s new Shadance Hall EP, due out April 17 on Dekmantel. It’s four whole new tracks, twice, and as Mauskovic puts it, “way more influenced by dub mixing and dancehall rhythms. The B-side is dub or riddim versions of the A-side.”

Working with producer Kasper Frenkel in his Electric Monkey studio, Mauskovic recalls, “We made many different versions of the tracks. Live-mixing to tape, we experimented with the reverbs and echoes he had in his studio – and used the studio more as an instrument.”

If you’re curious about the results, check out our review of the Shadance Hall EP, also here on PAN M 360.

Souldia is on the line from the greater Quebec City area. Originally from the Limoilou district where he came of age, Saint-Laurent has been living happily on the outskirts of the capital.

“My maturity as a man, my musical exploration, my choices of collaboration are the main indicators of my recent evolution. In my mid-thirties, I’m certainly not writing the same lyrics as I did ten years ago. My way of life has changed, I’m at an age (35) where one wonders if the choices made in the past were the right ones. I can’t change the past, but I could do better in the future.”

Souldia’s approach remains the same in spite of the experience gained, as the 18 songs on Backstage’s programme attest.

“What I’m still doing now is 360-degree reality rap. I’m inspired by life, my own life and the lives of the people around me. It can come from a simple phone conversation.”

Examples?

“The song ‘Backstage’, performed with Eli Rose, embodies the concept of the album: behind the curtains of the stage, and behind the curtains of my life. I tell my vision of things, on tour, from town to town. I confide my concern about keeping my family together through all this. I like to take my family on tour with me, and make them live that experience. My wife is a real-estate agent by profession, but she still helps me a lot artistically. Her opinions count in my choices, she has a very good musical ear.”

According to the lyrics of “Magnifique”, Kevin’s father was no angel, but his wounded soul bore enough goodness and charm to spark filial admiration.

“My father was my best friend. He passed away in 2012, so I’ve been thinking about doing this song for eight years. Until recently, I hadn’t found the words or the music, I didn’t know where to start, I really had to think about how I could talk about him. It was tricky. We’ve got less than three minutes to make this work! In the end, I tell his story while giving the impression that I’m talking about myself. In the chorus, you realize that he’s the one I’m talking about.”

The biggest star of keb rap also lent a hand:

“I’d never done songs with Loud before, I’d wanted to do that for a long time. We knew that the day he and I would do a song together, it would be explosive. ‘Rêve de jeunesse’ will be useful for both of us over the next ten years!”

Other big shots participated, on which Saint-Laurent comments:

“‘Nouveau Soleil’ brings together Eman, from Alaclair, and FouKi, who are very talented artists, who can take us to their own planet. So I created a song with them to take my audience on a journey with them.”

Very often, hip hop albums involve guest appearances by established artists, but also choice recruits… and old buddies.

“‘Every Day’ was made with White-B, with whom I worked on my song ‘Le Bonheur des autres’. I still wanted to have a one-on-one with this artist I respect a lot, and who I think will become important in the years to come. ‘Mega Mulla’, with Tizzo, is one of my favourite songs on the album. Tizzo is also an artist to watch closely. Recorded with les Sozi – the Pelletier twins – with whom I learnt to rap, ‘Joyeux Noël’ marks my belonging to the Limoilou neighbourhood.”

Apart from all these appearances by keb rappers, there’s a significant dose of hexagonal rap in Backstage:

“‘Rouge Neige’ features Sinik and Seth Gueko from France, joined by Quebecer Rick Pagano. I’m proud to have Sinik as a partner, I’ve been working with him for three or four years, and he invited me to Paris for the launch of his album at La Cigale. In France, Sinik introduced me to Seth Gueko, who’s also a pillar of the rap scene over there. And then I got involved in the production myself. I was joined by Rick Pagano, a former contestant on La Voix, also a guy from Quebec City, and we became good friends. So I managed to create this mix of French and Quebecois, because our rap roots are the same.”

Souldia worked this time with a cohort of beatmakers – in addition to the main ones mentioned, there are Oni, Ajust, Realmind, Toosik, DJ Manifest, Major:

“I’ve been working with Farfadet and Christophe Martin for a long time now and they’re always by my side. Ruff Sound is back for the track with Loud, ‘Rêve de jeunesse’. Ruff Sound is a big name, he worked a lot with Loud, it wasn’t hard to unify all that on ‘Rêve de jeunesse’. Koudjo and Dfresh worked on SKRAB, they’re excellent Quebec beatmakers who’ve worked on French rap hits.”

Among the most prolific artists of the keb rap scene, Souldia wants to avoid any redundancy:

“I really don’t like to stay in the same niche, repeating the same flows from my previous albums. That’s why I also listen to music that’s different from hip hop… which is one of the only kinds of music that can be mixed with any other musical genre. Within hip hop, I also like mixing: hard rap, afro-trap, old-fashioned boom bap, scratches from my friend DJ Fade Wizard.

“In the end, it’s more than just rap.”

Beyond the global pandemic, the launch of It Is What It Is took place in a very particular context.

“It’s been a lot of growth and change, sometimes pain, actual real-life aspects. At this point, it’s not so easy to see what has been achieved. To be honest with you, as a songwriter, I’m very proud with the body of work that it is. I guess the best way to describe the process is that I’ve never taken a break composing. I was never feeling composing for a specific project, it was an ongoing process.”

Therefore…

“Things only changed recently, when major events happen in my life. In a different way, it kind of forced me to sit down. My best friend passed away, it led me to stop drinking alcohol, many things changed since. It’s also part of life, you know, we gotta come out of this and try to lead something. I’m not the first to go through that, its okay.”

In great demand, Thundercat evolves within an extended family, several eminent members of which came to lend him a hand in the recording sessions for his fourth album.

“Between me and guys like Ty Dolla $ign, Louis Cole, Donald Glover [Childish Gambino], Steve Arrington, Zach Fox, there is something familiar. I’ve been collaborating with those people since a while, we got closer together through this recent process of creation. It changed a few things in my music. All those guys are very close friends and I feel very fortunate to have them with me on the album. I think we spent intense moments – TyDolla $ign, Lil B and me were very close to Mac [Miller], we were very upset and shaken by this loss. At the same time, Mac has been a light for us during the recording sessions. He was a very much a musician first – seriously, his musical skills were very strong. That was also an occasion to share love and friendship.”

A seasoned stage vet, virtuoso to say the least, Thundercat defines himself first and foremost as a performing artist:

“Live, my music is a sort of a stretch, it is very similar in a way. Many ways lead to the final compositions, but the live trio is the same that tours with me since a few years – Justin Brown on drums. I feel blessed to have them on stage with me.”

Until further notice, due to the coronavirus crisis, the stage performer is in retreat…

“My tour was cut short, so I’m getting back into practicing. I have a chance to practice every day, I got to adjust because life has changed. Right now, I also try to sit down and reflect. It’s a bit difficult but it’s okay. Whatever happens, life is still moving forward like it always will.”

Along with musicians such as Flying Lotus, Kamasi Washington, Terrace Martin, Taylor McFerrin, Michael League, Makaya McCraven, Shabaka Hutchings and other leaders, Thundercat is one of the great reformers of jazz, hip hop, soul/R&B and electronic music.

“For me, the blend between jazz, hip, soul/R&B and electronic music is healthy balance. Where am I? I’m at both places at the same time: songwriting and instrumental music. I’ve never seen them as separate. My music is landing itself at its place, it’s a bit of a wild card.”

While still young, Thundercat points out that he is 35 years old and needs to be open to the next generation.

“I’m very inspired by young people bringing hip hop and rap somewhere else, they’re making something different, bringing an interesting perspective to the music. Among them, I think about guys like Guapdad 4000, 645 AR, Smino, Earth Gang, Phony Ppl. The doors are opened again for creative et innovative music.”

Older jazz hounds have noted that Stephen Lee Bruner‘s music doesn’t deny the golden age of jazz fusion.

“I think that my audience is aware that I’m also doing jazz music. Also, this music is really connected with instrumental R&B and jazz-funk from the ’70s, which was a very important period for this kind of music. I grew up with jazz-funk and jazz fusion, musicians like Herbie Hancock, George Duke and Stanley Clarke are major influences in my own creative evolution.

“I know, this music became boring and commercial for a long while before becoming creative again. The musical landscape is always changing, the forms and shapes go through mutations, this is what happened with hip hop. People were hungry for something different, and created it, and that was hip hop.”

Thundercat concludes on a rather optimistic note, despite the hard trials and tribulations:

“In a way, I’m a byproduct of my environment, it explains my interest to those different music styles. I try to gather different periods of the modern music history. I feel that every instrument, acoustic, analog or digital, can be a tool for composers. Whatever is coming next in music is very exciting, I’m ready to see what happens. People from the new generation and different parts of the world are diving into the creative universe and bring different breeds into it. It’s beautiful to see! And I’m happy and grateful to be part of that.”

And that, being what it is, is that.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QVOjKAOUPQQ

This is the story of four teens from relatively privileged backgrounds enrolled at the South Shore’s Collège Durocher. Like most pop, rock, or other experiments, this one began in a basement, at the home of Charles-Antoine Olivier, aka CAO, drummer of Zen Bamboo.

Simon Larose, singer, guitarist and lyricist of the group, sums it up:

“In the beginning, it was really nothing more than spending the weekend jamming in the drummer’s basement. It was our main hobby as teenagers, which gradually became professional. Today, [bassist] Xavier Touikan and I are 24 years old, CAO and [guitarist] Léo are each 22. None of us studied music after high school; we all took programs in visual arts, literature, film and communications at CEGEP and university. CAO completed an undergraduate degree in film at UQAM, Léo was enrolled in visual arts, Xavier in digital arts, and I in comparative literature. We all took a break from university to do music full time.”

The music of Zen Bamboo is hard not notice, it is rich, shaggy, voluminous and ear-catching. Larose takes a new look at the stylistic side of the story:

“The indie rock and the emo of the 2000s are very important in the matter. Hip hop and R&B also permeate our musical culture, they are major influences even if they aren’t apparent. When we were working on this album, we were thinking about Frank Ocean, or even less tasteful rappers, like Lil Peep. We were also thinking about Grimes’ pop. As for the most crucial influences, I’m thinking of Nirvana, The Pixies, Red Hot Chili Peppers, Built to Spill, Elliott Smith, Frank Zappa, Jacques Brel, George Brassens, Jacques Dutronc, Richard Desjardins.”

Although they are of rock allegiance, the young guys from Zen Bamboo are this apparently now classic genre to the digital age. Larose explains how they do it.

“We offer rock songs based on simple structures. The arrangements are less simple, and it’s in the way we work that it happens. For example, you can take a drum pattern and adapt it in different ways; you can remove or inject elements from the original recording to generate new effects. Our songs were composed with guitars, bass, drums, and then we spent a lot of time on the computer. We tried a thousand things, transformed the sound recordings, imagined several collages. When something surprised us, we kept it.”

Zen Bamboo have been performing since 2015. To this day, the strength of the group is at its greatest in front of an audience. Larose says it loud and clear:

“It’s what we like to do the most, and that’s how we made our name. To this day, I find us even better on stage than on record. You know, we play together regularly for the simple pleasure of playing, it’s still our favourite hobby even after six years of existence. For the next show, by the way, we plan to adapt the songs by playing them without machines, which allows us to change the interpretation in real time.”

Julien Mineau, leader of the group Malajube (2006-2011) and the Fontarabie project (2014), produced GLU. Larose describes the connection they established:

“Our former manager frequented a bar in the Quartier Latin where Malajube’s bassist, Mathieu Cournoyer, was, and he put us in touch with Mineau. Of course, Malajube is a mythical band for all young Quebecers of my generation who play rock. In our specific case, the influence of Malajube and Julien Mineau is mainly felt in the layering of sounds. Also in the way their songs culminate. Having said that, we really didn’t want to sound like Malajube, while evoking their influence with care. What we did with him, in fact, doesn’t fit in with the Quebec rock thread. And if there’s anyone who wants to do something other than Malajube, it’s Julien Mineau! Nevertheless, I admit that musically, it’s in the same creative spirit. When it comes to writing lyrics, however, we’re not really in the same place.”

Indeed, Larose’s lyrics have little in common with those of his musical mentor. He attempts an explanation:

“When it’s confusing and sketchy in the writing, when I try to create an imbalance, a diagonal effect, it brings me immense aesthetic and symbolic satisfaction. To confuse, to say one thing to mean another, or to say pointless things, or exaggerate other things, it’s a big game for me.”

And the tone? Simon says he feels “enraged” when he writes and expresses his song lyrics. Why is this?

“I try to make sense of what I see all around me and… it’s all so strange, violent, chaotic, absurd. My references range from 9/11 to the prospect of making children in this world in disarray. So I see songwriting like a bull seeing red. I see our age as an absurd and threatening monster, and that’s why I try to create another monster to stand up to it.”

A third of a century ago, in 1985, four greasy, sneering, badly behaved Montreal teenagers (“with no previous musical experience”, as their Wikipedia page politely puts it) started out on their long journey to the pinnacle of the global garage-rock scene. With matching black turtlenecks and bowl cuts, and a band name borrowed from the creepy neighbours on The Flintstones, The Gruesomes howled in homage to the forgotten fuzz lords of the 1960s, bands that they would before long stand alongside as peers.

Back in the late ’80s, The Gruesomes were veritable trailblazers for the protean indie-rock tour circuit, crisscrossing Canada and rattling the roofbeams of countless sweaty little show bars. They broke up in 1990 and reformed a decade later, only to discover that they’d become global icons of the garage-rock revival. Live sets from these self-appointed “tyrants of teen trash” have become less frequent as the years have passed, and their rare reunions are a big deal to the Beatle-boot set.

New recordings are likewise rare. In fact, the band themselves had no reason to believe they’d ever do another. A bunch of superfans in Spain insisted otherwise, and the result is a super-cool combination comic book and seven-inch single – the ideal Gruesomes artifact.

PAN M 360 got in touch with Gruesomes guitarist and songwriter Bobby Beaton, to find out more.

PAN M 360: The Gruesomes recently returned from Spain. What were you guys doing there?

Bobby Beaton: Believe it or not, we were over there playing garage music. We had originally agreed to just play at a festival, but the promoters started offering more shows and it turned into a mini-tour of northern Spain. We didn’t know it, but Spain is crazy for rock ’n’ roll. Garage music in particular represents a larger niche than it does here. They have show-bars dedicated exclusively to the genre, and many more that feature it regularly. So everybody knew our songs and all the shows sold out and they had no problem filling opening slots with local garage bands. They even put us on Spanish national radio for an hour-long interview exploring our music and influences! I am not making any of this up. Spain has an appetite for garage that apparently cuts across all demographics.

PAN M 360: Apparently, you came back with something highly contagious… that’s right, your catchy new 45 single! What’s the scoop on that?

Bobby Beaton: The single was a suggestion from the Spanish promoters. It’s a collaborative effort from a new label called Calico Wally, a record company called KOTJ Records, a comic studio called Palmeras Y Puros, and the Wachina Wachina Festival in Zaragoza. The angle they went with was, “legendary garage band is back with a Spanish tour and new single!” People were genuinely happy to buy it and we signed tons of them at shows. We thought it was weird making a new record, but it seemed very important to these folks – they took it seriously and did a great job with the artwork, pressing and promotion.

PAN M 360: Spill the beans on the single’s two tracks. What gives?

Bobby Beaton: The A-side is a band original called “Someone Told a Lie”. I was listening to a lot of Swedish garage at the time and wrote a song in that style. The B-side is a cover of “Make Up Your Mind” by Los Mockers, the Rolling Stones of Uruguay in the ’60s, a band that we have always loved. The original version is just so crazy good that we had to change it up a bit, give it our own sound, to even justify recording it. We actually got to meet the songwriter, Esteban Hirshfield from Los Mockers, in Spain, and he liked our version.

PAN M 360: If roughly five and a half minutes of greasy Gruesomes garage rock weren’t enough, the single comes with a special bonus… a comic book! Better yet, an EC-style horror anthology comic book, in which the Gruesomes get the supernatural comeuppance they so richly deserve!

Bobby Beaton: Finally! In the first story, we’re portrayed as paranoid idiots who misinterpret the hospitality of the well-meaning Spanish locals as some sort of evil Scooby Doo plot. The second story pays homage to the Hammer horror film Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors, in which the band is cursed for playing a forbidden song. It’s an eight-page comic book by artists Furillo and Jorge Rueda. They have a company called Palmeras Y Puros and are both quite well known over there. They are big fans of the Gruesomes and quickly found the right tone for our band. They were as enthusiastic as we were about the project. We actually met the artists in Zaragoza and got a chance to hang out together. Very cool people.

PAN M 360: Where would you place this seven-inch, on your ranked list of The Gruesomes’ Greatest Contributions to Human Culture and History?

Bobby Beaton: We would compare it to a lost episode of Gilligan’s Island – of extreme cultural significance for some dedicated people, an interesting distraction for others. We are extremely proud of it. The cover art, the songs, the comic are all better than we could have hoped for. We had never thought that we would record again, so it’s just as surprising for us as anyone else.

The digital download of the “Someone Told a Lie” single can be purchased at the Bandcamp page at left. For the real-deal, vinyl version with comic book included can be ordered from Ricochet Sound.

In 2019, Naya Ali broke what was left of the ice around her, put herself in front of an audience, and reaped a genuine esteem within the hip hop family. From the Osheaga festival to M for Montreal, she was unanimously acclaimed.

What’s next?

In this context of coronaviral confinement, which is very conducive to attentive listening to the music, it goes without saying that the rapper is launching a new recording. The eight tracks on Godspeed: Baptism (Prelude) are the first part of a diptych, the second of which is scheduled for next fall.

Born in Ethiopia, Sarah “Naya” Ali immigrated with her family to Quebec when she was a child. She still lives here and can draw on a rich, diverse, composite culture. In accordance with the rules of Bill 101, she attended elementary and high school in French, then continued her college and university studies in English. She now speaks four languages (French, English, Amharic and Spanish), and is a graduate of Concordia and McGill universities.

“Before I switched my life back to music,” she says, “I worked in marketing for small businesses. Music was always a passion, but I wasn’t sure if I would make it my priority. For me, music is also a medium that goes beyond just creating, it’s a way to create movement that is useful to communities. Music is both an artistic foundation and a means of expression.”

Naya Ali discovered her artistic sensibilities as a teenager, from poetry to hip hop.

“I started writing poetry first,” she says, “I started rapping when I was about 18. I was active until I was 23, then I stopped. Why did I stop? I didn’t know myself 100 per cent, as an artist. I’d had a lot of influences, but I felt like the music I was creating wasn’t me. So I chose a safer path professionally, I concentrated on my studies in public relations and a career in marketing.”

One can only deny their true nature for so long. Still… diving into hip hop culture at the turn of one’s thirties can’t be easy.

“It’s never too late,” says Ali. “Things have to be done at the right time. If I’d got into rap in my early twenties, I probably wouldn’t have got the result I’m getting now. When, a few years later, I made that important decision, things changed very quickly.”

It seems that experience serves the rapper well.

“My studies, my life experiences, my business side, all that also plays a crucial role in my development as an artist. I’ve got a team, I’ve got a manager, I’ve got a recording contract with Coyote, I’m very involved in all aspects of my project. For me, this career’s a small business, it’s a startup where I’m the CEO. I have to make sure that my brand is respected.”

And what exactly is Naya Ali’s brand?

“I’m inspired by Kanye West in that respect – I want my music to instill confidence in people and change their minds at the same time. My music is about opening up dialogue, initiating conversations, promoting introspection and reflection, and inspiring people to become the ‘manager of their world’. I do this with both humility and confidence.”

In the studio, she works with Kevin Figs, Chase.wav, Tim Buron, Banx & Ranx…

“They are very strong producers, all from Montreal but also working abroad. I sit down with each of them, we come up with ideas, we come up with melodies, hooks, we create each song together. I’m accompanied live on stage by DJ John Brown, who’s also very talented. He makes sure that the vibe is always strong. We have a great dynamic, he and I.”

Our interviewee is outspoken, self-confident, and following firmly in the footsteps of her strongest influences. More precisely, she was educated by listening to Kanye West, Jay-Z, Kid Cudi, Eve and Lauryn Hill, to name only the American stars. It’s important for her to put her own touch on the grand scheme of hip hop, which is a huge task in itself.

African influences? Ethiopian? Naya Ali’s programme does ’t include samples or quotes from Mulatu Astatke, Gétatchèw Mèkurya and Mahmoud Ahmed. What’s the deal?

“Ethiopia is becoming a very important market,” she agrees.“ I’m from the diaspora, I’m interested in it, that’s for sure. I’ll work on it, but not in the short term. When I give my first shows in Africa, in any case, it will be a great moment for me! Right now I’m making the music I love and I’m not at all opposed to integrating African music into my own. It’s not an obligation, but in the future I could take action. The album cover, however, does have Ethiopian influences; you can see this cross on a golden background that you can see there in ceremonies and places of worship. It’s a tribute to my roots.”

The title of the recording evokes Naya Ali’s new departure.

“In Godspeed: Baptism,” she concludes, “it’s me who’s on stage, searching for myself, finding my strength. I think I’ve drawn these resources from deep within me and I begin this new chapter of my life by recalling what it took me to get to this point. It’s the light, the hope, the acquired mental strength, the positive vibes. But it is also the pressure, the anxiety, the negative emotions induced by this profession. It’s no longer a question of whether or not I’ll break through, it’s done. I now have to deal with the daily pressure and use the best strategies to ensure my growth.

“And stay strong.”

First topic on the menu of perceptions: of the three LJC albums released since 2012, Quand la nuit tombe (Simone Records) is the closest to Karkwa. When the observation is put to Louis-Jean Cormier, he nods in agreement.

“Yes, absolutely! We also made this observation as we progressed through the album. It wasn’t planned and, in the end, I’m very happy. In fact, it coincided with the return of François Lafontaine (also of Karkwa) to my artistic life. When he wanted to change studios, I welcomed him into mine and he set up his own synthesiser museum there (laughs). I was in the middle of making my new album at the time, so I thought it was cool that he got involved in the project. He ended up playing on almost half of the repertoire in the end.”

LJC insists, François Lafontaine’s role was decisive in the making of the album.

“From the beginning of the album, I wanted songs that ‘come out of the speaker’, I wanted it to go overboard. Frank went in there like a dog in a bowling alley, knocking everything over, it was fun! We were happy to go back to the drawing board. The next step will be to compose together for me, for him, for Marie-Pierre (Arthur), maybe for Karkwa… “

Some people sum up the instrumental construction of Quand la nuit tombe: a guit-free album. Was it premeditated?

“It wasn’t… it kind of came out of a drunken evening. I took a few chances with my friends, made an album without guitars and also made songs to dance to – although I really don’t consider myself an artist who makes people dance. The idea took off, and that was it! Artists had better take on such challenges, it’s always healthy to create under duress.

“It was very rewarding to make an album that focused on piano and keyboards. It’s bigger, it leaves more space for the voice and the words. The piano frees up the set, you can hear the voice, the words, the other instruments better. Moreover, the piano is my primary instrument; I played it for about 15 years before perfecting my guitar.”

Five years separate the release of Quand la nuit tombe and Les grandes artères. Five pivotal years, Cormier points out.

“My life has changed a lot – break-up, shared custody, new relationship, sabbatical, travels, making recordings… I was in Ethiopia, Germany, California. I’ve stuffed myself with hip hop, electronic music, Ethio-jazz, I’ve become aware of the cultural roots of my Ethiopian girlfriend (Rebecca Makonnen). By the way, the song ‘Les poings ouverts’ is directly inspired by Ethio-jazz.

“My girlfriend also inspired me to get into hip hop, so much so that I bought samplers and other synthesizers, and started digging into my brain to master these machines. To give an example, the song ‘100 mètres haies’ features excerpts from Debussy, and is the result of this apprenticeship. It must be said that the classical side of this song comes from my paternal influences and those of my brother, a violinist with the Orchestre symphonique de Québec and sometimes with les Violons du Roy.”

Despite the absence of muscular guitars, LJC notes, Quand la nuit tombe is not sweet.

“The word got out, I’d made a piano-vocal album. People are going to take the plunge when they hear it! It rocks and I like it! I wouldn’t say it’s a rock album, but it’s one of my solo projects that pushes me the most in that direction. As well as singing on it, I play piano, synthesizers and synth bass. Alex McMahon, one of the best pianists in the country, doesn’t play a note of piano on this album! He plays synthesizers, but mostly drums, simultaneously with Marc-André Larocque. Together, they are a-maaaa-zing! Guillaume Chartrain plays electric bass and synth bass.”

The start of the new tour was imminent but… the pandemic has obviously changed the course of things.

“We’ve got a hundred dates planned, we’re going to play them all eventually. I’m really looking forward to getting back on the road! Brigitte Poupart will be stage-directing, Mathieu Roy will be lighting. With the exception of François Lafontaine, the band that made the record will accompany me – Alex McMahon, Guillaume Chartrain, Marc-André Larocque.”

As for the literary aspect of the process, Cormier feels his lyricist’s pen got sharper.

“I had a very open dialogue with Daniel Beaumont, a ‘lyric buddy’ who helps me and doesn’t hesitate to tell me the truth. He saves me from deleting excerpts that I considered useless, he critiques me, and more. Other friends can also do it, I think in particular of Martin Léon… This time, in any case, I wrote more alone than in the past. There were moments of dazzling creation, hands on the piano and words coming at the same time. Other songs are the result of relay races between me and Daniel and so on. My point has become clearer, it’s related to recent episodes in my life. I tried to be both clear and simple, without neglecting depth and innovation.”

Cormier also believes that he got more invested in his chosen subjects.

“It’s a record where I put my guts on the table, more than ever before. I’m less descriptive, I’m taking a stand. For example, I talk to my father, telling him I’m withdrawing from religion, which generates more shit than good. I can also raise the issue of racism with David Boudreault; we’re both privileged white men, we have companions of colour, our awareness is through them.”

LJC’s peripheral experiences have helped him mature. The soundtrack of the film Kuessipan (shot with the Innu of Quebec’s Côte-Nord region, where Cormier comes from) allowed him to evolve on keyboards, and the Cirque Éloize show Serge Fiori/Seul ensemble was also a revelation.

“When Alex McMahon and I reworked his music, Fiori brought us back to the thrill, the instinct, the heart. He urged us not to be too cerebral, to keep the imperfect recordings that carry the real emotions. Emotion is superior to technical cleanliness!”

More audacious, a little less pop, will Quand la nuit tombe augur another sharp turn, like the one negotiated in 2012 that gradually led him from indie rock to reality TV and mainstream success? Where does Cormier stand?

“At the time of Karkwa,” he recalls, “I wasn’t the most fucked-up musician in Montreal! And on the more popular side, I’m often perceived as a black sheep. In fact, I’ve always seen myself in the in-between, I’m comfortable even with my ass between two chairs! I’m capable of bridging the gap, I can make Klô Pelgag sing with Marie-Mai. I don’t think I’ve become a transvestite for all that, a prostitute, I haven’t lost my integrity.”

Still…

“During my sabbatical,” says the star singer and musician, “I experienced a return to the values of art. I went to the museum, to the theatre, I read, watched a lot of repertory films and documentaries. I remember hearing Pasolini say that the biggest mistake an artist made was to try to achieve unanimity. It struck me… maybe I had been trying too hard to please everyone? So I chose a daring project, with ‘bombs’ that explode at certain times… knowing that when the DNA of a song is simple and effective, there’s no need to do pirouettes. Boldness does not exclude simplicity.”

The expression: exceptional voice, exceptional phrasing, simple and substantial words. The diversity of the genres involved: French chanson, pop, trap, hip hop, soul, electro, gospel. The look: imposing size, magnificent face, opulent coiffure, unfailing sensuality despite an atypical physique. The boss of her own business: producer, manager, manager of her own company, owner of her work.

Barely out of her teens, Yseult Onguenet made a name for herself on reality TV. Nouvelle Star launched her into the public eye in 2014, and… it could have ended there, with Yseult lost in the nebula of generic singers. But it didn’t.

Interviewed during a recent trip to Montreal, she’s nevertheless grateful for her time on the small screen, in front of the general public in France.

“It was a great springboard. As a result, I was able to create my own company, my own label. Today, I’m the producer of my videos and recordings, I’m the owner of my content, the leader of my project. Afterwards, it was a lot of work, management, team management, administration, negotiations, etc., but when I see everything that’s happening today, it’s impressive… serious… too good!”

Let’s agree from the outset that Yseult has the predisposition and the stature necessary to bring her boat to port without being eaten by the big showbiz structures. Presumably, she has realized that it takes more than just success on reality TV to really make a career.

For instance, she pulled herself out of the limelight after launching her recording career in 2015. When she returned to the public a couple of years later, what she announced was very different. In turn, the Rouge et Noir EPs clearly established her as one of the strongest newcomers on the French music scene. And that’s exactly why the Centre Phi welcomed her: out of the ordinary, nevertheless a conqueror, nevertheless a star.

“In Paris,” she says, “we started out with a room of 200 people. In Montreal, we started in front of 400! It was unbelievable, something crazy!”

At the end of February, indeed, the room was packed to the brim with fans who were more than enthusiastic. Accompanied by a keyboard player equipped with computerized sounds, Yseult set fire to the place – your humble correspondent can testify to this. When an artist generates such a stir with a first public appearance, it is clear that the buzz is bound to be considerable.

Yseult is Parisian by birth, she grew up in Bercy/Cour Saint-Émilion, she also lived in the 20th arrondissement, near the famous Père-Lachaise cemetery. Her parents are from Yaoundé (mother) and Douala (father), both from the Eton community of Cameroon. Now retired, her father worked as an executive at Land Rover.

“He studied hard to achieve that,” her daughter proudly recounts. “It was very difficult for him in the French context. Today I tell myself that if my father succeeded in life, it’s impossible that I won’t succeed. He’s a great music lover, he loves jazz, classical music, African music and more. My mother’s a big fan of French variété, she’s into it!”

Not so long ago, Yseult might not have toasted her parents with such admiration, she clearly experienced a generational conflict. Anxious about her daughter’s artistic ambitions, Papa Onguenet had forbidden her to make music and… she did as she pleased, with the results now obvious. The Nouvelle Star jurors had in fact publicly underlined, for her father, the evident talent of his daughter. Today, the parents are very proud of Yseult. And we imagine that the ties have grown closer because she says she recently lost an older brother, without wanting to give details about this disappearance.

In order to live his life as an artist and polish her pop character, Yseult relocated to Brussels.

“Frankly, it’s too good! With Angèle, Damso and many others, the scene over there is hyper-eclectic, there’s a real mix. It’s healthier, more relaxed than in Paris, where things are too fast, too big, in my opinion. Artistically, Brussels is incredible! What’s more, there’s a strong Anglophone influence there. It’s clearly more mixed than in Paris. In Belgium, with the Flemings, the Walloons and foreigners, people navigate between languages, a bit like you do in Montreal. In fact, I feel very much at home here. You seem like people who care!”

That’s what led Yseult to set up an essentially Brussels-based team:

“I keep the same core of producers who made my last two EPs, musically and visually. I try not to put too much pressure on myself, take the time to express what I feel, my inner conflicts, my feelings, without revealing too many details of my private life. In this spirit, I’ll release eight tracks next October. For this, I’m working with Prinzly, who’s collaborated with Damso, and also with Ziggy (Franzen) and Romain (Descampes), who worked with me on my previous recordings. All based in Brussels, these producers remain in the shadows. With them, there’s an exchange and a real artistic proposal that I didn’t find in Paris.”

Chanson, electro, R&B, hip hop, and mainstream French pop are on Yseult’s program. “I’m a hybrid, I like that word,” she says, before letting a sonorous laugh erupt.

Pressed on the absence of African elements in her music, she says she takes responsibility for her choice.

“I love French variété too much… I took my mother’s side! (laughs) I love Barbara too much, I love Brel too much, I love words too much. It moves me. Of course, African culture is part of me, but what drives me first of all is the French variété. You don’t have to be a prodigy to be able to exist, you can’t hide behind arrangements. I think it’s cool, beautiful and strong to introduce myself as a piano-voice artist in 2020. The most beautiful is the simplest. You know, a lot of black artists in France would like to do variété and don’t dare. The French music industry doesn’t allow us to be mixed.”

Guess who’s going to change that?