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"You have a choice in life," says Yann Tiersen, lounging on a sofa
in the Kensington office of Mute Records. "You can be quiet and assume
(sic), or you can say fuck it and do what you want. I prefer
the second way."
This is the philosophy that informs Tiersen's new
album, Dust Lane, and it was thrown into sharper focus by the deaths
of his mother and a close friend during the recording process.
Tiersen, best known for the much-adored music that appears on the
soundtracks of Amélie (2001) and Goodbye Lenin! (2003),
spent two years adding layer on layer to the expansive post-rock
textures that make up Dust Lane.
Its dramatic highs and lows are as
full and ecstatic as its creator believes life ought to be, even in
the face of grief and hardship. Though Tiersen is quick to point out
that (as with Corinne Bailey Rae's The Sea) the album was conceived
before his bereavements, it does brood on mortality. The opening,
ominous piano notes of Ashes call to mind John Lennon's Mother,
before the song's mood changes to one of hope and renewal.
The album is an international affair, recorded in Tiersen's home in
Brittany, in Paris, and (in the case of the title track) on an island
in the Philippines. Featuring Bristol natives Matt Elliott (of
Third Eye Foundation) as "the album's narrator" and Dave
Collingwood on drums, it was mixed in Castleford by legendary producer
Ken Thomas. "I originally thought I would mix it myself," says
Tiersen, "but I asked Ken because I love his work with Psychic
TV - you know the one with the skull (1982's Force The Hand Of
Chance) - and what he does with vocals. I like the sound to be a bit
blurry. There were so many textures on Dust Lane, I think Ken is the
only person who could have done it."
"French people still think France is so important.
Even abroad, when I meet French people they can be so arrogant." - Yann Tiersen
Tiersen himself does not see the album as a huge departure - he
describes its predecessor Les Retrouvailles (2005) as "kind of a draft
for Dust Lane" - but it will certainly surprise listeners who are only
familiar with his soundtracks and 1990s albums. Its dense sound
includes signature instruments like accordion and toy piano, but also
analogue synths, multitracked vocals and astringent guitars.
Matt Elliott is most prominent on two tracks at the album's centre,
Palestine and Chapter 19. On the former, he simply spells out the
word P-A-L-E-S-T-I-N-E. The track was prompted by a trip to Gaza,
"somewhere I had wanted to go for a long time. It was the first time
I was in front of the reality, and I could feel the gap between the
news and what was really happening. Not that the news lies, but even
if you shoot an image, there is a distance there. The name Dust Lane
partly came from the image of the dirt road going into Gaza. I wanted
to deal with it in the most neutral way, just by naming it: Palestine.
It's such a complex situation - I didn't want to be part of that. I
don't have the elements." By way of balance, the text of Chapter 19
deals with the Jewish ghetto in New York, taken from Henry Miller's
Sexus. Tiersen, who first read Miller as a teenager, says "he
changed my way of living", and particularly admires The
Air-Conditioned Nightmare, Miller's acerbic study of contemporary
American culture.
With Elliott as the main vocal presence, the only clue that this is
Produce de France comes from the accents on closing track Fuck
Me, a duet between Tiersen and fellow Br�ton Ga�lle Kerrien. Tiersen
says it is simply "a love song I wrote for my girlfriend on tour" but
its lyrics are in the carpe diem tradition, an exhortation to
procreate in the face of the abyss: "I know you know we are falling
into a deep oblivion... So we have to take care and share it together."
Tiersen also acknowledges the thematic resemblance to Serge
Gainsbourg and Jane Birkin's Je T'aime... Moi Non Plus, though he is
uncomfortable with the Gallic lothario stereotype. "I'm from
Brittany, and we're not really part of that Latin culture."
There is no small irony in the fact that Tiersen is regarded as a
quintessentially French export, yet feels very little connection to
French music, nor even to La R�publique herself. "France is a very
small country," he says. "It used to be an international country, many
years ago. But French people still think France is so important.
Even abroad, when I meet French people they can be so arrogant." He
blames the quota system, obliging French radio to play a certain
amount of domestic music, for suffocating the music scene.
"I
discovered Brel through Scott Walker." - Yann Tiersen
Tiersen's true musical heritage is American and British punk and
post-punk - he is more influenced by Joy Division, Michael Nyman and
Penguin Café Orchestra than by French chanson. He only
returned to his childhood instrument the violin after searching for
string sounds to sample from other people's records. "The same with
the accordion. I couldn't play a brass instrument - I tried but I was
really bad - I couldn't play the flute, and the accordion was a
keyboard so it was easy," he says modestly. "I didn't know French
musette music at all. Even people like Jacques Brel - I
discovered Brel through Scott Walker. My parents listened to
Brel, of course, but when you're a teenager you're not interested. So
it was only when I heard Scott Walker's versions that I thought 'this
is fucking good', you know. The only French singer I listened to was
Serge Gainsbourg." Tiersen would go on to invite Gainsbourg's
muse Jane Birkin to guest on Les retrouvailles.
And what of Amélie, the film that launched a thousand
Eurostars, sending young dreamers in search of the kooky romance of
Jean-Pierre Jeunet's fairytale Montmartre? Tiersen's evocative music,
taken largely from his existing albums but with a few new
compositions, was a key element of the film. "It's funny, because
Paris is maybe the town I hate the most on earth," smiles Tiersen.
"But I'm not ashamed or anything. If you have a huge successs with
something it's normal that you will be associated with it. Most of the
time I don't mind. Most of the time."
The bestselling soundtrack
album brought Tiersen a huge new audience, who may be surprised by his
rocky live act, but the composer says that, on the whole, they take it
well. "A lot of people, it's like they went to my music through
Amélie doors. Even if they come to my shows expecting
Amélie, it's so loud they soon realise it's not the same! We
do some of the tunes, but in very strange versions." With an album as
warm and ambitious as Dust Lane, who knows - that girl from Montmartre
might even stop following him around and go back to waiting
tables.
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