Part 2

What are areas/themes/topics that you keep returning to in your lyrics?
    
I think the main recurring theme in my lyrics is the discrepancy between ourselves and others, even with those we feel closest to. I am fascinated by the different narratives people can have regarding the same events.

For instance, “I’m Not There Yet” addresses the misinterpretation of one’s desires and the damage it can cause.



On the basis of a piece off your most recent release, tell me about how the lyrics grew into their final form and what points of consideration were.

The lyrics of my latest single, "Chocolate Ashtray," stemmed from the phrase "It’s all a crazy casino," which stuck as a playful image for the injustice we see and experience all the time.



Some start the game of life with an insane amount of resources, while others have far less. I liked the phrase because, first of all, I thought it sounded good—it had a groove that pleased me rhythmically. But also, most of the games you'd play in a casino are based entirely on luck. And I hate the capitalist narrative built around the idea of merit, more specifically, the idea that you get what you deserve—that if you work hard enough, you'll make it.

Many people, even left-wing people, are deeply attached to meritocratic values, even though time and again, the world proves how biased they are. Most of the storytelling we hear is based on the idea of merit. And from merit comes a sense of entitlement that I am always very suspicious of. But the point of the song wasn’t so much to point that out, but rather to try to let go of it all and find joy in doing so.

As a philosophy teacher, I’m always very, very careful when I tackle topics that can be analysed philosophically in my songs. I usually avoid doing so and try to write about more personal things. But when I wrote this song, the injustice of merit really resonated with me personally and triggered very strong emotions, so it was impossible not to write a song about it.

Regarding the concept of merit, I have philosophical references in mind—I read papers and essays on the subject—but it is extremely important to me that my songs aren’t philosophical. What I mean is that I don’t want my songs to be mini-essays or abstract and theoretical, as I would write if I were wearing my philosophy cap. I want them to be tangible, evocative, and emotive.

That’s what made this song such a real challenge, and I think the metaphor of the casino really helps with that. There is a reference to the Sisyphus myth in the song, which might seem to contradict everything I’m saying here, but I indulged in this reference because, first of all, it’s a popular philosophical reference, and secondly, I tried to emphasize the feelings one might experience while pushing the same boulder over and over again, rather than focusing on the existential analysis it is usually associated with.

I'd love to know how you think the meaning or effect of an individual song is enhanced, clarified or possibly contradicted by the EPs, or albums it is part of. Does the song, for example, need to be consistent with the larger whole?
    
That’s one of the reasons I love listening to whole albums or EPs—each song sheds a different light on all the other songs.

And since I believe songwriting should be a space of complete freedom, there is no need for consistency. We change, our tastes and opinions change, and we are extremely contradictory beings.

While there is little room for contradiction in certain domains where consistency is, and should be, a real concern, art allows for the absence of consistency.

When you're writing song lyrics, do you sense or see a connection between your voice and the text? Does it need to feel and sound “good” or “right” to sing certain words? What's your perspective in this regard of singing someone else's songs versus your own?
    
Absolutely! I think that’s why writing things that feel true is so important to me. I wouldn’t be comfortable singing lines with which I have no personal connection. And that’s always what draws me to do a cover—the personal and emotional connection I feel with someone else’s lyrics.

I do a cover of Ed Askew’s “Moon in the Mind” at the end of my shows, specifically because I’m touched to the core by the lyrics, to the point where I sometimes cry while singing it, even alone at home when I rehearse.



Conversely, in my first band, I wasn’t singing, just playing the keys, but I did write the lyrics for the singer. It didn’t last very long because it was really hard for me to hear someone sing words that bore so much meaning to me, when they didn’t seem to connect with them at all.



I would love to know a little about the feedback you've received from listeners or critics about what they thought some of your songs are about – have there been “misunderstandings” or did you perhaps even gain new “insights?”
    
Well, to be honest, that’s not something that’s ever happened, I think.

That’s one of the sad things about being based in France and writing in English—most people don’t really listen to the lyrics or aren’t able to understand them. What usually happens is people being curious about the topics or the meaning of certain songs, but it’s more of a language issue. Since I impose a meaning on the songs when I explain them to them, that’s something I’m not really fond of.

So, I’m really looking forward to having a larger English-speaking audience, especially because I’m so eager to hear those misunderstandings and new insights you talk about.

That being said, I’m particularly happy to answer your questions and to finally have the opportunity to talk about my songwriting, so thank you for that.

Creativity can reach many different corners of our lives. Do you feel as though writing song lyrics or poetry is inherently different from something like making a great cup of coffee? What do you express through music that you couldn't or wouldn't in more 'mundane' tasks?

I do think that creativity is part of many aspects of our lives. As someone who enjoys cooking and cooks a lot, there are parallels I can draw between how my mind works when I cook and how it works when I write: the craving that needs to be filled, the “a little more of this, a little less of that,” the “hmm, it’s good but it lacks something.”

That being said, the creativity I feel when I write music is inherently quite different from the creativity I feel when I cook, for example; it’s a more intuitive and spontaneous kind of creativity.

When I make a dish, I’m able to explain how I made it, every step of the way—that’s not something I can do when I write music. There are parts of the process I can explain, steps I can identify, but it’s all so blurry, so intertwined, and so complex that when I talk about how I made a song, it always feels rather inaccurate.