INTERVIEW WITH singer ...
Les Négresses Vertes, one of France’s most influential folk rock bands, are most definitely back after their triumphant European tour of 2018. Furthermore, their acclaimed debut album ‘Mlah’ has just celebrated its 30th anniversary. When guitarist-singer Stéfane Mellino came to Brussels in January 2019 for some promotional talks, Keys and Chords jumped at the chance to have a chat. Mr. Mellino was friendly, open-minded and world-wise. In short, a real pleasure to talk with.
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Julian De Backer: ‘You played the famous Dranouter festival in May 2018. Looking back on that gig, how did you experience it?’
Stéfane Mellino: ‘Dranouter was a superb concert, the band enjoyed themselves, and we’ve gotten great reviews. We hadn’t played for nearly 20 years, but the audience was there, and the people were very enthusiastic. Really, a great souvenir.’ Julian: ‘What about the Belgian audience?’ Stéfane: ‘Oh, great. We’ve actually started the tour by playing in Belgium, in small clubs, to rekindle the chemistry between the band members. We chose not to do any television, we really wanted to connect with a live audience. Belgium remains an important territory. In February 2019, we’ll play the Ancienne Belgique (AB) in Brussels. The AB is a beautiful venue, une belle salle. Even though we’re a francophone band, we’ve played in Sint-Niklaas, in Leuven, and other places in Flanders. We have always had more success in Flanders than in Wallonia. The French language doesn’t scare off the Flemish fans.’ Julian: ‘The language of music prevails. And it’s not necessary to understand everything.’ Stéfane: ‘Indeed. The energy is what matters.’ Julian: ‘Your song ‘La Valse’ reminds me of a grand party, a circus, or even a fair. What’s the story behind the song?’ Stéfane: ‘The accordionist who composed it used to work in a circus, indeed. ‘Cirque Zingaro’, or the ‘Théâtre Equestre Zingaro’. They work with horses, quite beautiful. He was influenced by his work there, and wanted to use the melody to open our album ‘Mlah’. It’s a piece filled with melancholy that evokes the vintage images of Paris, the streets filled with accordions. A little bit of Paris, a little bit of circus, quoi. It’s nice to have an instrumental like that on an album, to not have any lyrics, and just revel in the music. It’s relaxing, and it makes me feel good.’ Julian: ‘Were there many takes or versions of ‘La Valse’? Or is the first edit on the album?’ Stéfane: ‘Yeah, the first cut ended up on the album. We never even recorded a demo. We started writing lyrics, but it didn’t feel right. The music was all we needed.’ Julian: ‘And it works, especially as the beginning of the album. ‘La Valse’ also reminds me of Jacques Brel’s ‘La valse à mille temps’. Both songs seem to celebrate the joy of life. In general, that joy is apparent in your songs, and it’s infectious for the listener.’ Stéfane: ‘That’s very important to us. Les Négresses Vertes offer a mix between musical joy, and sad lyrics. On ‘Mlah’, there’s a song called ‘Il’, a sad song that recounts the story of a homeless person. But the audience can dance to it. During a concert, you can forget all your daily troubles: the lack of money, an illness, et cetera. If you have sad music with sad lyrics on top, that may be too much. Our song ‘Voilà l’été’ is very upbeat, but the lyrics talk about an unhappy person who has to stay at home while his friends leave for the holidays. He’s angry about it. If you don’t think about it, you can regard ‘Voilà l’été’ as a happy song about the summer. But there’s a second layer, an undercurrent, a hidden meaning. We love to create that paradox between music and lyrics. Those two things correspond with life: happiness, and sadness.’ Julian: ‘People who never pay attention to the lyrics may find themselves in an embarrassing situation, when they pick the wrong song for their wedding, for example.’ Stéfane: ‘Indeed, never take the lyrics for granted. Some people don’t understand the text, but they understand the energy. For Les Négresses Vertes, the energy is the universal language. When I was a small boy, at age 8, I listened to the radio and heard ‘(I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction’ by The Rolling Stones. Wow! I didn’t understand a word of it, but I understood the song was talking to me. C’est quoi ça? Ça me parle! The energy was more important than the lyrics.’ Julian: ‘Did 8-year old Stéfane have other major influences?’ Stéfane: ‘Oh, yes, a lot. The Beatles, of course. When I heard ‘Michelle’, I was enamoured. My mom was called ‘Michelle’, and my father was ‘Daniel’. So my father changed the song to ‘Michelle, Daniel’ instead of ‘Michelle, ma belle’ (laughs). I’m a child of the sixties, so the Anglo-Saxon rock music greatly influenced my youth. The first discs I ever bought with my own money, were ‘Made In Japan’ by Deep Purple and ‘Wish You Were Here’ by Pink Floyd. ‘Black and Blue’ by The Rolling Stones, too. I bought them when they came out, not 25 years after the fact. On était là. We looked at the covers, and dreamed of a life like that. Today, when I discover a new group, it still instils a form of amazement and wonder. And I’m happy to see young people get carried away by great music. It’s a genius feeling. 50 years of rock ‘n roll, c’est super.’ Julian: ‘You still have the albums of your childhood?’ Stéfane: ‘Oh yes, I still have all my vinyl records. Just yesterday, I listened to an old Stranglers record. Still brilliant. Excellent bass. I’ll never get tired of ‘Déjà Vu’ by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young. Tellement génial. A sublime album. How these guys play, and their vocal harmonies. Wow! Without any computers, too. One take. When I play it to a younger person, he or she will say: ‘What is this? I don’t know it, but I love it!’ Part of the charm is that these albums were made without cheating, in real time, analogue, big reel-to-reel tapes. It’s totally different nowadays. During our recent tour, we saw deejays performing with nothing more than a USB-stick. Just push play. Ils font rien, c’est incroyable. That’s evolution, it’s just like that.’ Julian: ‘There’s an acoustic version of your song ‘Easy Girls’ with an irresistible groove. How do you choose between different takes of the same song?’ Stéfane: ‘Normally, when we write songs, we start with just the guitar and vocals, and afterwards, in the studio, we’ll add electronics and arrangements. In this case, we turned it around. We had the full song ‘Easy Girls’, and we stripped it down to an acoustic version for the album ‘Acoustic Clubbing’. We wanted to revisit our repertoire, with a live feeling to it. We had a great time in the studio. One take pour tout le monde. It was magical.’ Julian: ‘But normally, recording even one song can take weeks, if not months.’ Stéfane: ‘It all depends on the recording, and the producer. There are producers who want to record each piece of the song separately, so you’ll start with all guitar parts, then the vocals, then he’ll experiment with the other musicians, and so on. For ‘Acoustic Clubbing’, we all played together at the same time. The producer was sitting amongst us, together with the conductor. Ça, c’est le kif ça. We prefer this experimental process. Our chemistry is what makes our music what it is. We have a true connection. We can never emulate or find it with others.’ Julian: ‘You write songs as a group. Is it a democracy?’ Stéfane: ‘Everyone has their say, and everyone can chime in. Of course, when someone has written both words and music, he’ll have a bigger piece of the pie. But there’s always a time and a place for enrichments, for suggestions. Someone will suggest that the verse will work better as a refrain, and we’ll consider it. Why not? Working as a group opens up possibilities. We all have different tastes: rock, flamenco, or funk, but in the end, we’ll work together towards the result. More eyes, more ears. ‘Add some sax!’, why yes, that’s democracy.’ Julian: ‘It must be hard to hear a better suggestion than your own.’ Stéfane: ‘It can be difficult, because you have a preconceived idea of what you want. You think your idea is the best. But you must always keep your cool, and trust the people you work with. Whoever offers the suggestion, has the best interest at heart, which is to improve the song. I would do the same for him or her. Same with lyrics: sometimes you write something, and people will misinterpret it. That’s hard. You can try explaining it all you want, but some will never get it. When I wrote ‘Face à la mer’, it started out as an instrumental. I didn’t want to show the group my eventual lyrics, because the subject matter was so different from our other work. I was afraid of their reaction. My songs are my children. After you’ve released them, they’ll lead their own life. They don’t belong to you anymore. It’s also their song, the audience’s. Best feeling in the world. My songs are more famous than I am, I can still walk around anonymously. But people know my work. I prefer that to the opposite, actually. C’est cool.’ Julian: ‘The album ‘Mlah’ has just celebrated its 30th anniversary. Since 1988, a lot has changed: the Berlin Wall fell, the Gulf War raged, neoliberalism, intolerance against cultures and religions skyrocketed, et cetera. But ‘Mlah’ is still fresh, up-to-date and filled with hope. That hasn’t changed. It’s a timeless album. What would change if you were to record and release ‘Mlah’ today?’ Stéfane: ‘I don’t think we would have written the same songs today. We were 25 at the time, a whole different frame of mind. Back then, life was simpler, and more affordable. We didn’t have any money, but we didn’t need much. You could party all night with € 15, today, these two waters we’re having in this Brussels hotel will cost us € 15 (laughs). Neoliberalism and globalisation are certainly valuable for some, and some will benefit. But a lot of people fall off the bandwagon, and outside of the system. It must be hard to be a farmer, today, for example. He works all day, and faces uncertainty, while an executive behind a computer presses some buttons and watches the money roll in. That’s not a normal or healthy situation. On est frustré. When you work with your hands, you have no guarantees. As a musician, you can build your own home studio, and that’s great, but you’ll miss out on working with an engineer who has considerable skills. We’ve lost a great deal of master craftsmen, because we want to save a penny. Years and years of experience get lost. Dommage. Dematerializing can be great, but not for everything. In our line of work, as musicians, it’s never that drastic, but we see a similar deterioration of the craft. We did a tour in England, and we saw bands who were more preoccupied with their social media videos than with their performances. They were filming themselves on stage for their Instagram accounts. I can’t wrap my head around that. I don’t have the time to film myself when I’m trying to play my instrument. I’m not going to film my food when I’m eating at a restaurant. Je m’en fous.’ Julian: ‘Is there a solution in the long run, you think?’ Stéfane: ‘It’s human evolution. Someday, we’ll discover something else, like Christopher Columbus – hopefully without the loss of human life. We’ll return to what’s really important, more rational, more real. More human than just images of humans. J’espère. But at the same time, I haven’t got a clue. I’m not going to bother with the things that displease me. Take pollution, for example: one man can’t do everything to fix it, but everyone can do a little to fix the bigger problem. I will recycle paper, and not just throw it in the trash. Be a better example for your children, because they will copy your behaviour. Be conscious for yourself, but certainly for others too.’ Julian: ‘You have the right to say ‘no’ to something that really angers you.’ Stéfane: ‘True, I do have that right, but I don’t have the right to decide for others. We are individuals. I fear the masses.’ Julian: ‘Even as a musician that plays for huge crowds?’ Stéfane: ‘Oui, of course. Indoctrination and forced ideology lead to disasters. We, as musicians, have a voice. But suppressed people don’t have a voice. Ça sert à rien. Fear is the worst guidance.’ Madeline (promo girl): ‘Stéfane, you really have to catch your train.’ Julian: ‘Last question: can we expect a new album by Les Négresses Vertes?’ Stéfane: ‘That I don’t know. We haven’t foreseen it, but we are musicians. Who knows what will happen during rehearsals? If it works, it works. We’re not going to force anything, but when the moment is there, why not? On laisse venir.’ Julian: ‘Thanks for your time, it was interesting and enlightening.’ Stéfane: ‘Merci à toi.’ Les Négresses Vertes in concert : Friday 22 February 2019, Ancienne Belgique, Brussels Infos & tickets : www.next-step.be & www.abconcerts.be |
Julian De Backer © 2019 Keys and Chords