Published
Name: Louis Matute
Nationality: Swiss
Occupation: Composer, improviser, guitarist
Current release: Louis Matute's new album The World is Stable Now is out via Cheptel.
If you enjoyed this Louis Matute interview and would like to stay up to date with his music and upcoming live dates, visit his official homepage. He is also on Instagram, and Facebook.
For a deeper dive, read our earlier Louis Matute interview.
There seem to have been many inspirations for The World is Stable Now, from dystopian novels to world anxieties. Would you say you're responding to a larger situation/feeling or specific conflicts and developments?
How do we keep from being affected by everything that’s happening?
Bolsonaro making a comeback, Marine Le Pen, Milley, Trump. Latin America becoming increasingly fascist. And at the same time, the protests in France give me so much strength.
The World Is Stable Now is a call to imagine ways of surviving in this mad world. This record is my own way of surviving in it, and of understanding how music allows us to rise above it all. This record is the story of a community growing and expanding, creating together.
Because it’s only through community, through coming together and taking action on the ground, that we can truly create something meaningful. Not through ideas alone.
Many believe that instrumental music can not really be political, but I would argue that you actually have more freedom to respond as an artist without the use of words. How do you see that yourself?
I think instrumental music is more cryptic than music with lyrics. Conveying a message through instrumental music requires much more collective work to distil what you’re trying to say. And yet, it’s obviously political. I believe everything is political. Making music is inherently political.
We work in an extremely precarious profession that is poorly represented as a whole, so we demand rights. It’s almost impossible to make music and be right-wing. When you live in a precarious situation, you become more aware of the inequalities in our society, and you get used to disagreeing with the system and demanding greater fairness.
To answer your question, I think both are equally valid, and both are political. I believe I’m just as capable of conveying a political message through words as I am without them. When there are no lyrics, your ear becomes more attentive to all the things you might not have noticed if there were a singer.
You can say something funny but still mean it. On this album, I feel like there could be something similar going on: The press release focuses on its “dreamy” nature but there are dark and very serious themes here, conceptually and musically.
Irony is my own way of being subversive. Telling stories, denouncing things through poetic language. Everyone has to find their own way of expressing themselves, and this just happens to be mine.
I struggle to be too literal, so I use imagery to talk about the things I care deeply about. And sometimes, if I have to be dramatic and literal, I like to take it to the extreme. Like with titles such as “Adieu, monde cruel” (“Goodbye, Cruel World”) or “Les musiciens se cachent parmi les tombes” (“Musicians Hide Among the Graves”).
What really struck me when I watched Edo Bertoglio’s film Downtown 81 was seeing Jean-Michel Basquiat, who was still using the name SAMO at the time, tagging “The World Is Stable Now” (Aldous Huxley) in the deprived neighbourhoods of Lower Manhattan. I loved that double meaning. It reminded me of Huxley’s book Brave New World, known in French as Le Meilleur des mondes (The Best of All Possible Worlds).
I’m fascinated by this injunction to be happy, and disgusted by it at the same time. That’s why I called my previous albums Dolce Vita, which deals with dictatorship, and How Great This World Can Be, which came out during the COVID crisis.
How do you look at escapism in art?
It’s something I really value.
To be honest, I find it easier to escape when I listen to music than when I compose it. I’m drawn to obscure or older music. It allows me to escape the constant anxiety of the world we live in today.
I feel like I’m in a bubble where no one can hurt me. A bit like reading a book on the subway.
What was the concrete point of departure for The World is Stable Now. With the focus on improvisation, how much material did you write before recording?
I wanted to see what could emerge in the moment and learn to trust each other.
As jazz musicians, we’ve been trained to tell stories constantly through improvisation. Storytelling is part of who we are when we play. So I thought it would be interesting to step back a little and see how that narrative instinct could express itself in contexts where there was very little in the way of arrangement.
I wanted to take the opposite approach to my work up until then, which had been more structured. I teamed up with producer Robin Girod, who excels at finding solutions and is full of surprising ideas. I’ve rarely met someone who is so unafraid of making mistakes, and that inspires me a lot.
Accidents help you grow, and they capture a moment of human vulnerability that makes music unique. It’s the most beautiful thing on earth: allowing yourself to be vulnerable.
I was quite taken by the subtle, but deep sound design of the record, with vintage synths and organic acoustic sounds, natural room performances and effects. What were you looking for?
There are a few records that really inspired me while writing this album.
The first is a Brazilian music compilation called Outro Tempo, curated by John Gomez and released on the Music From Memory label. It brings together a collection of tracks recorded towards the end of Brazil’s dictatorship and in the period immediately following it.
The import of electronic instruments was restricted under the dictatorship, which led to some unusual approaches and distinctive sounds from synthesizers and drum machines, blended with more traditionally Brazilian rhythms and sounds.
I’m fascinated by the way acoustic folk traditions and digital elements come together on this record. It also explores the Amazon rainforest and the relationship Brazilians have with it, giving the music a very tribal dimension that still sends shivers down my spine today.
The other record is a compilation called European Primitive Guitars, released by NTS, which brings together music from the European branch of the “primitive guitar” movement of the 1970s and 1980s.
I’m fascinated by the way the guitar is used to create textures and atmospheres on this record, particularly through the sound of steel-string guitars.
The Mellotron seems to have been a particularly important ingredient, with both you and Andrew playing it. Can you briefly talk about your relationship with this legendary instrument and what qualities made it feel like a great match for the record?
It was the first time I’d used one in the studio.
I simply fell in love with the flute sounds on it, nothing more, nothing less. I mean, how could you not fall in love with that flute sound?
What was the recording process like?
We recorded the album over five days at Robin’s studio in Geneva. Every day, friends would drop by and we’d try things out together.
At first, I was really pessimistic. I’d go home in the evening thinking we were making a terrible album. But thanks to Robin’s vision, his confidence in me and his optimism, I realised we had to keep fighting until the very end.
And now it’s become one of my favourite records, and I’m really proud of it.
Improvisation was key to the tracks on the album. What made you opt for this and how did you approach the balance between spontaneity and editing afterwards?
This record came out of a time when I was feeling very inspired, but also pretty fed up with things.
I was about to release another album with a major French label, and I felt the need to do things differently this time around. To plan less, trust each other more, and embrace accidents. And above all, to work with people you’re close to, people you love and who share the same vision as you.
Even though I had no idea where I was heading, I felt safe with Robin, and that was a really good feeling. It made me feel able to take risks. So I improvised a lot of things, whether it was the arrangements, the choice of instruments, the melodies, the harmonies, the rhythms, and so on.
"Encyclopédie du Drame" sounds like it could have been culled from a longer jam, it's very hypnotic and could easily go on for a lot longer. How did it come together?
This track came together over time. We worked on it over several days, almost every day.
It started with this guitar and its melody. Then we tried recording different drum machines, but nothing really worked. So we added some triangle, and then a friend dropped by to play surdo. Robin added some electric bass, and Andrew Audiger came in to create some synth textures. Finally, we added melodica.
We had a lot of fun and a lot of laughs along the way.
"Les musiciens se cachent parmi les Tombes" is a really dramatic closer and features the most striking production choices, almost as if it were made for a different project. What do you remember about the recording?
I wanted to have a solo piano piece on the record. I’d written this melody, and then we played it on the Mellotron.
We ran it through a Space Echo, but that was pretty much it.
Is this a “field recording” with natural hiss or did you work hard to achieve the result?
The hiss comes from the Mellotron amp and the Tascam.
I was about to ask you about the old Tascam recorders and cassette tapes as well, and how you used them!
Our sound engineer, Valentin Liechti, exported the Logic sessions and recorded them onto cassette tape at a slower speed to achieve a more hazy, dreamy sound.
We then transferred the tape back into Pro Tools so the mastering could be done as usual.
The album was created in a world that is clearly not stable. Artists will often be very sensitive to instability which can be distressing but also energising, like a call to action. What is this like for you and would you say you prefer, as a creator, to live in stable or unstable times?
This album is important to me because it marks a turning point in my life. I’ve come to realise that what really lasts, and what truly matters, is community rather than the individual.
In our meritocratic, capitalist society, we’re encouraged to believe in the idea of individual genius. But that’s not how things really work. Brian Eno replaces the word “genius” with “scenius” to describe how things move forward through collectives, scenes and communities, rather than through a single individual. With this album, I wanted to take the opposite approach and put more value on the group than on the individual.
The proof is that when I released Dolce Vita, I felt incredibly lonely. I was working with a major label, surrounded by people whose values I didn’t really share. I’m much happier releasing The World Is Stable Now today, surrounded by friends and people who genuinely share my values.
And so far, the record has been doing really well, which only reinforces my belief that this is the right way forward.
