French Revolution

Alex Latrobe, aka Alex Gopher, began his career alongside friends Étienne de Crécy, Nicolas Godin and Jean-Benoît Dunckel in the pop outfit Orange. A formidable group of musicians, rough edges aside, destined one way or another to change the history of French popular music, whatever the purists of Gallic singer-songwriter pop might say. Alex is the funky soul of the bunch, the one who devours crates of Motown and Stax vinyl. In short, Gopher is the resident swaggerer. A lone captain at the helm of a ship steering French touch toward dazzlingly bright territory. “You, My Baby & I” reveals its intent from the title alone, a deliberate nod to a whole universe of soul singles, and the cover — with mirrored sunglasses à la Stevie Wonder capturing a clear snapshot of a blaxploitation film — sums up the artistic signature of an inspired rhythm manipulator with an unmistakable touch. The record contains intergalactic getaways propelled by funk (“Tryin'” above all) and samples ranging from Herbie Hancock to Rose Royce. House music compressed and buffed to a shine with an exceedingly chic sensibility. An album impossible to replicate, one that makes things crystal clear: the French chew up house music and spit out its seeds with an elegance all their own.

Demon – “Midnight Funk” (1999)

Just like his friend Alex Gopher, Jérémie Mondon, aka Demon, is the other funk-minded dj producer from that blessed circle of producers ready to give the disco beat a French makeover. It's no coincidence that his most significant work, “Midnight Funk” — nomen omen — features, among others, the ever-present de Crécy. It's de Crécy himself, in fact, who produces “Lil'fuck”, placed right before the title track, a deep house masterpiece built around the unforgettable vocal sample from “Street Life” by the legendary Crusaders, a track made famous by Randy Crawford's scorching voice. Not only that: “Now That I Have You” is eroticism in its purest form. Liquid pulses and glittering crystals accompany the moans of a woman in heat, before the bass explodes, giving rise to an irresistible dance capable of shaking hips step after step. Sensual percussion, but also synthetic theatrics à la George Clinton's P-Funk All-Stars era, with a vaguely lounge change of direction. Delicacies at the controls that place Mondon and his finest record at the heart of any respectable French touch list.

I:Cube – “Adore” (1999)

I:Cube is not just a tribute to the divine Ice Cube, but rather the moniker chosen by Nicolas Chaix, a Parisian DJ who rose to prominence thanks to a hugely successful remix of Daft Punk's “Around The World”. “Adore” is his second album, and it brings together all of Chaix's best ideas at the controls: techno volleys mixed with mechanical scratches (“The Basic Bastard”), dub-tinged isolationism with a bottom-of-the-barrel vocal (”Le dub”), showy progressions that anticipate microhouse by a long shot, and metallic contortions that would make the mouths water of the young dubstep producers still in their infancy on the Rinse FM frequencies (what a coincidence, huh). “Adore” is a cult record of the underground wing of french touch. An album that's at times unfinished, closer to the ideas coming out of Brixton than to the unbridled elegance of its countrymen. And yet, it's a work that captures the state of grace of a crew of manipulators who were often quite distant from one another, each with their own desire to seduce audiences and critics alike. Chaix is the resident alien, and his toolbox is a treasure chest of sounds from who knows where (“Mighty Cube” especially).

St Germain – “Tourist” (2000)

Ludovic Navarre returns to the scene of the crime, with a back-to-basics move that seems intended to seal an era. “Tourist” came out in what is perhaps the crucial moment for french touch in terms of media exposure and commercial returns, in the spring of 2000, more to cement its coolness than – by that point – to shape its fate. The nine songs, adding up to a tight hour of music, still form one of the movement's most shining manifestos, and the album would go on to become one of its most recognizable titles over the years. The tracks – suitably stretched out in length – move between jazz, house and lounge, perfect as background music for upscale venues, but also for the ears of a more attentive audience unwilling to settle for a surface-level listen. From the metropolitan frenzy of “Rose Rouge” to the world-music inflections of “So Flute”, by way of the swaying drift of “Sure Thing” and the refined house of “Pont des Arts”, this repertoire manages to win over listeners at every latitude with its sophisticated savoir faire. A genuine instant classic.

Phoenix – “United” (2000)

From homeland of the ancien régime to cradle of the new French scene: such is the bizarre fate of Versailles which, after Air, also gave birth to Phoenix. The quartet led by Thomas Mars, formed when the frontman was just 10 years old (!), arrived on the scene with a repertoire of songs blending pop-rock, occasionally danceable rhythms, and a certain aristocratic elegance that goes hand in hand with a freshness of approach that borders on miraculous. Compared to their haughtier neighbours in the banlieue, Phoenix seem interested in writing songs tailor-made for the post-adolescent audience they themselves belonged to: brisk, radio-friendly, instantly catchy tracks. And indeed “United” is a collection of singles that are “easy” without ever being cheap, made iconic by that French streak that comes through even in Mars's unsteady English vocals (a stage name, ça va sans dire). The carefree pop of “If I Ever Feel Better” and “Too Young” points to a new direction for french touch, more suited to house parties than blazing dancefloors, just as “Honeymoon” and “Summer Days” are the bittersweet counterpart to an eternal youth best lived in soft focus.

Laurent Garnier – “Unreasonable Behaviour” (2000)

The man who, together with a select few others (Daft Punk chief among them), exported french touch to the world, arrives at the dawn of the new millennium after having experimented with icy Detroit-derived sounds and exotic fascinations worthy of the danceable Arthur Russell under the moniker Dinosaur L. These explorations of the world find their fullest realization in Laurent Garnier's magnum opus, “Unreasonable Behaviour”. A record that fuses cybernetic, film-noir atmospheres (“Greed Part 1 & 2”), killer rhythms that sound like they came out of an unusually carefully organized rave (“Dangerous Drive”), and lounge-y stretches bidding farewell to the century just gone by (“Last Tribute From The 20th Century”) with a faint house restart in a Chicago vein. It's a mix handled with uncommon flair. Garnier is no ordinary DJ-producer. He's the Henry Walton Jones Jr. of french touch. A researcher as refined as he is daring, of a sound that in 2000 finds its definitive squaring of the circle, between far-flung samples, synapses of every kind and escapes from his home country. After all, there's a world to conquer, naturally with a gentleman's charme.

Le Peuple De L’Herbe – “Triple Zéro +” (2000)

To put it briefly, one could speak of a French approach to hip-hop, but the debut of Le Peuple de l’Herbe is undoubtedly much more than that. Led by DJ Pee and DJ Stani, the Lyon-based outfit on “Triple Zero +” blends the language of rap with a decidedly structured, distinctly electronic sound, onto which acid jazz, drum and bass, funk and dub influences graft themselves depending on the track. An album that captures the sounds of its time and reworks them into a language that's different, but not too different, achieving a result of real substance. This fusion of genres and styles is best represented on a track like “Romantic”, where several languages and samples overlap to produce an effect that's spontaneous yet always convincing. “Elektro M.J.” is equally stunning, another crash-course in styles and references delivered with a typically French touch. At the time of its release, “Triple Zero +” remained a cult record only in its home country, but it's also one of the finest works of the french touch saga, of which it is fully a part, as well as one of those that have aged best. A masterpiece worth rediscovering.

Bob Sinclar – “Champs Elysées” (2000)

Chris The French Kiss. That charming nickname chosen by Christophe Le Friant, better known to everyone as Bob Sinclar, is enough on its own to sketch a first portrait of one of french touch's most eccentric, and at times deliberately kitsch, DJs. A film buff first and foremost. A prankster behind the decks whose moniker is borrowed from Bob Saint-Clair, the character played by Jean-Paul Belmondo in Philippe de Broca's film “Come si distrugge la reputazione del più grande agente segreto del mondo”. This cinephile streak also lies at the heart of his first hit, produced by his friend Thomas Bangalter, “Gym Tonic”, featuring a vocal sample lifted from a Jane Fonda who denies any involvement. “Champs Elysées” is the second album from a seasoned hand at the decks who had already been topping the charts for several years. Disco music conceived purely to celebrate life's pleasures: that's Sinclair's mission, starting with the opening theme, halfway between a 1970s soap-opera jingle, complete with festive strings, and sensuous flourishes worthy of Jean-Pierre Massiera, the father of French dancefloor music and of french touch as a whole.

Superfunk – “Hold Up” (2000)

With a Marseille twist, one might say, listening to Superfunk's french disco. They are indeed the standard-bearers of a cradle of talent that emerged from the south of France in the early 2000s. Fabrice Texier (Fafa Monteco), MR Hamdi (Mike 303) and Stéphane Bonan love funky music more than anything else. The synth-funk of Bootsy's Rubber Band and Parliament is borrowed only to serve a sound that, in the end, is rather polite. A reference model turned upside down by four-on-the-floor blasts and vocoder vocals acting as MC at a party thrown somewhere between Paris and Mars. There's no shortage of techno-house assaults either, like those on “Come Back (Supamix)”, or soul-flavoured glazes like the smooth “Lucky Star” featuring Ron Carroll in full Robert Owens mode. But also irresistibly cheesy floor-fillers for the terrace crowd, such as “The Young MC”. Samples scattered with class from the likes of Cerrone, Earth, Wind & Fire, Afro Cuban Band and Amant lay bare the trio's colourful sensibility, on a record that's essential listening for anyone wanting to understand what french house is all about.

Mirwais – “Production” (2000)

Mirwais Ahmadzaï, known professionally simply as Mirwais, is a producer with a double life. On one hand, he's the emblem of a distinctive sound, born of the synth-pop progressions he laid down with his first band in the 80s, Tax Girl; on the other, he's the protégé plucked from obscurity by none other than Madonna, who brought him on to co-produce and co-write no fewer than 4 albums between 2000 and 2019. A guitarist somewhere between gypsy swagger and classical restraint, Mirwais unleashes on his sensational "Production" — arriving a full decade after his self-titled 1990 debut as a chansonnier — a string of sonic inventions drawing as much on the Far East, as in the celebrated ballad "Paradise (Not For Me)" sung by Madonna herself, as on sudden lashes of pure big beat, almost as if the Chemical Brothers had crossed the Channel to conquer Paris. In between sit episodes like "Never Young Again", which turns the dancefloor into a kind of imagined Eden. "Production" is the most vitamin-packed result of a complete musician, shaped by the ancestral currents of the finest progressive electronic music and the eccentric crossbreeding of the turn of the millennium.

Daft Punk – "Discovery" (2001)

It's 1998 when the comet "Music Sounds Better With You" by Stardust — namely Alain Quême (aka Alan Braxe), Benjamin Cohen (aka Benjamin Diamond) and Thomas Bangalter of Daft Punk — comes crashing down on the planet. The global smash hit, built around a Chaka Khan sample, is the ray of light that gives discotheques a second youth. The single carries the DNA of "Discovery" (just to be clear: album of the Noughties for the OndaRock staff too), the second effort from the two young Frenchmen who, in short order, had become something far removed from "a bunch of daft punk" (as Melody Maker once dubbed them), and anticipation for their next move began to weigh as heavily as that surrounding the biggest international stars. "One More Time", the lead single, immediately reveals the duo's incredible form. Fueling the general frenzy is the gorgeous animated video that introduces "Interstella 5555", the 2003 animated film created by Leiji Matsumoto and inspired by this very masterpiece. The choice to put the late American house producer Anthony Wayne Moore, aka Romanthony, on vocals (!) proves spot-on, as does the use of Auto-Tune as a vocal-correction tool. A string of unforgettable tracks ("Crescendolls", "Digital Love", "Veridis Quo") rewrites the history not just of the French scene, but well beyond it. Just ask Kanye West about "Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger".

Miss Kittin & The Hacker – “First Album” (2001)

Active on the scene as a DJ since the mid-Nineties, Miss Kittin aka Caroline Hervé, from Grenoble, debuted in 2001 with "First Album" alongside The Hacker (Michel Amato). Miss Kittin's techno stands apart from the French touch scene, breaking away with a colder, less empathetic sound. In a sense, these traits bring her closer to the American and Berlin scenes than to the Parisian one, and they threw open the doors of the European electroclash scene to her. Still, Hervé is very much a child of the great movement born in Nineties France, from which, as noted, she partly distances herself with a sound that's more austere and stripped-down. "Life On Mtv" captures the apathy of the new generations crossing into the millennium full of uncertainty, while "Frank Sinatra" gives this odd couple a considerable payoff, one they'd continue to explore on later work. Another standout on the album is "1982", a track that reveals another major influence on Miss Kittin: Eighties synth-pop.

Modjo – "Modjo" (2001)

Romain Tranchart and Yann Destagnol, better known as Modjo. To be precise, the one-hit wonder with the longest tail in all of french touch. Indeed, a single like "Lady (Hear Me Tonight)", credited to Nile Rodgers, Bernard Edwards and, of course, Modjo, stayed at number one in the UK for two weeks and topped the charts across half of Europe. One of those hits that lodges itself in your head and refuses to let go even a decade after release. But the sole Modjo album holds more than that. There's the sticky, ultra-summery refrain of "Chillin'", which samples, of all things, "Le Freak" by Rodgers and Edwards' Chic — as if the "Soup For One" sample tucked into the aforementioned super-hit weren't enough already. It's a genuine act of worship toward synthetic funk, one that nonetheless collides with pop/mainstream moments of an altogether different caliber, like "Peace Of Mind". These are isolated cases, though, because disco shards like "Rollercoaster" and the spinning rhythms of "Music Takes You Back" fully define the direction the duo set out on with deep-rooted inspiration.

Alexkid – "Bienvenida" (2001)

Alex Mauri, aka Alexkid, is no ordinary DJ. He's a musician with wide-ranging vision, a sort of orchestra conductor able to summon session musicians of all stripes and bring to life one of the best-played and most exotic records of the french touch canon. "Bienvenida" is a total album, a manifesto for that distinctly transalpine strain of lounge. Electric piano, guitar, bass, percussion of every kind, trumpet, flute, saxophone, and a console triggering scratches and jazz-derived orchestral samples all take turns across a majestic work. You travel on camelback in search of the first oasis, as on "Maybe (Tape Mix)", a track Tricky would covet at any point in his career; you sink into the softest cushions while Ursula Rucker's cracked voice murmurs sensuality and Nubian acoustics bewitch the senses. "U'S Variation" is like tiptoeing into a harem and discovering its rooms one small step at a time, amid sweetest sax and sinuous basslines. "Bienvenida" is a gallant embrace — one of the most refined, classy records of the entire movement.

Shazz – “In The Light” (2001)

2001 is the golden year of french touch devoted to the dancefloor. Countless great records emerged in twelve magical months for French music. In the clubs of Paris, chic beats reigned supreme alongside samples so refined that calling them merely tasteful would be an understatement. Among the most graceful catwalk arrangements around are certainly those of Didier Delesalle from Dunkirk, in Hauts-de-France, better known as Shazz. Voluptuous beats like those of the title track, with its silky-soft piano, are just the appetizer for a polished, honey-sweet recipe. A first-rate lounge album, jazzy enough to delight the senses over a romantic dinner, or perhaps right before diving like dolphins into the club of the moment. "In The Light" is the least urgent record in the french touch lineage. But that calm is precisely what makes it almost unique, with its enveloping strings and piano codas cradling the senses — and maybe something more. You could call it an album of pure jazz-disco-music, one that doesn't shy away from Cuban detours like "Hemosa Maria" or irresistible synth basslines in the Ray Parker Jr. mold. A record that glows with its own light. A faint yet captivating shimmer.

Wuz – "Wuz" (2001)

Demon and Alex Gopher make up the duo Wuz. Just one self-titled album to their name, but plenty — an awful lot — of grace to spare. House music, first and foremost. The Chicago blueprint acts as a litmus test for what remains a peculiar stitching-together of machines all their own. The two dj-producers find in the dead of night the ideal setting from which to conjure electronics as shadowy as they are blinding. Take the opener, for instance: after several seconds of introductory compression, the dizzying deep rhythm of the title track takes command. Oblique percussion and funky offcuts form the backbone of "Focus", before "Without You" brings everyone, absolutely everyone, back into the club of wonders. The two chase each other, weaving dark, brooding sounds that alternate with moments of calm and sudden bursts of speed, as if paying homage to their mentors and friends Motorbass — with the key difference of dissolving without warning into the acid(ic) "Keep On Dancing (Last Man Standing)". An album for connoisseurs of the genre, but also for anyone who feels the urge to dance with the lights off.

The Supermen Lovers – “The Player” (2002)

A memorable hit like "Starlight", featuring Mani Hoffman, could easily overshadow the remaining 13 tracks of an album that nonetheless quietly marked the second wave of french touch. They call it nu-disco, but what the Parisian Guillaume Atlan, aka The Supermen Lovers, delivers is a carefully balanced alchemy of pop elements and constant dance forays, packed with effects, vocal distortions, and Chic-style guitar licks acting as beacons throughout the whole mix. A party that's flashy but not overly so, dominated by the forced beat of "Party'z Up" or the vocoder voice of "Dance With You", which likewise carries a stubborn, deliberate stride. The lighter episodes, like "Diamond For Her", make for an easier, less sweaty listen, though several refrains can feel a touch too similar to one another. Still, it's the signature of a musician at the peak of his powers. And the bouncy little groove of "White Hands" shows just how much Atlan can vary depending on the moment. Fleeting, mind you — just like his music.

Cassius – "Au Reve" (2002)

The new millennium has barely begun, and Zdar and Boombass try to match the glories of the seminal "1999", released three years earlier into the crystal-clear upper atmosphere of french touch like a probe-balloon in search of electrification of every kind. Second time around, the two producers aim straight for a collision with the cybernetic rock of their cousins Daft Punk. The first clear sign of this ever more urgent need comes via the thrilling "The Sound Of Violence", made with Steve Edwards. It's only the first alliance on an album packed with guests: Leroy Burgess, Ghostface Killah, Jocelyn Brown and Gladys Gambie. A well-assorted parade that lays bare the stuffing of a record whose moments range from the cyber-disco scattered throughout its 14 tracks, to the unbridled party with saxophone front and center on "Under Influence", passing through the old-school house of "I'm A Woman" sitting right at the heart of the record, all the way to the untamed bassline of "Till We Got You And Me" and the Chic-style guitar licks capped with a John Lee Hooker-esque muted solo. A second essential wonder from the Cassius universe.

Air – "Talkie Walkie" (2004)

The album in which Air resume the interstellar journey they began in 1998 with "Moon Safari" is, for some strange reason, often underrated by critics. Unlike the debut, true, it perhaps lacks truly epoch-making songs, but in that case we're talking about a one-of-a-kind, unrepeatable work anyway. Regardless, there isn't a single note out of place on "Talkie Walkie", let alone any filler; if anything, the impression is one of rediscovered grace, unfolding through the heavenly airs of "Cherry Blossom Girl", the disorienting reflections of "Run", the psych-pop trip of "Surfing On A Rocket", the avant-pop of "Alpha Beta Gaga", and further still in the synthetic mirages of "Biological" and the Eastern vistas of "Alone In Kyoto", used by Sofia Coppola for the soundtrack of "Lost in Translation". Together with the aforementioned debut and the soundtrack to "The Virgin Suicides" (also directed by Coppola), "Talkie Walkie" forms the great triptych of the Versailles duo. Since then, in fact, they've never quite returned to those heights, except sporadically.

Vitalic – "Ok Cowboy" (2005)

Electroclash and techno for everyone. Step right up. Here's Pascal Arbez-Nicolas, aka Vitalic. Shed every certainty you've ever held and let loose like herds of horses bolting from some godforsaken Texan ranch. "Ok Cowboy" is the most rapacious record in the entire French touch canon. The jolt anyone would want in order to thrash about free and uncontrolled. The formula of this blessed beatmaker from Dijon consists of using dry, stripped-down drums as a counterweight to booming synth runs. Vitalic is Captain Kirk at the console. The man behind "My Friend Dario", a bulldozing hit that pairs a rock riff worthy of the genre's best days with a tempo shift capable of getting even a pachyderm to shake its rear. Every instrument used is duly synthesized, as Arbez-Nicolas himself makes clear. The sumptuous tech-house ascent of "La Rock 01" and the frantic beat of "No Fun" then lead the listener into an absolutely mad rave. Brazen, disinhibited just the right amount, "Ok Cowboy" is a rocket thrusting upward into the realm of the imaginative, fortunately never once asking for permission.

Birdy Nam Nam – "Birdy Nam Nam" (2005)

One could argue that by the mid-2000s French touch had already lost much of its allure and commercial drive, and perhaps that's exactly why an album like "Birdy Nam Nam" could emerge on French soil — the primal creature of an alliance between four dee-jays who, behind the art of turntablism, do nothing less than carry forward the legacy of their illustrious compatriots. Across these 18 tracks, spanning a full hour, we find many of the same ideas encountered before, here suitably remixed: a rather minimalist scramble of downtempo, chillout and trip-hop rhythms, jazz and world accents, scratching, and assorted samples preferably drawn from the world of cinema, given that the main point of reference — starting with the band's very name — is none other than Peter Sellers in "The Party" (although some ideas feel more like soundtrack material for hypothetical pink panthers). Needless to say, the formula works, and indeed it isn't lacking in a certain charm, blending sounds that were already à-la-page but using instruments and methods entirely different from those of the past.

Justice – "Cross" (2007)

Another Parisian duo (Gaspard Augé and Xavier de Rosnay), another lightning-bolt debut, complete with some rather high-profile chart appearances. "Cross" (named after the symbol used as its title) is an electronic boulder, a black diamond that bewitches an audience large enough to land Justice a Grammy nomination and a level of attention no French act had managed to draw in quite some time. In this mix of house and synth-pop, the guiding principle is to keep the metronome cranked up and saturate the sound, absorbing the far-from-forgotten lesson of Daft Punk, bearing in mind the sonic forays of Air, and winking at an audience less accustomed to such territory with a melodic touch that's anything but banal. "Let There Be Light" and "D.A.N.C.E." are masterpieces of that very balancing act just described, complete with choral parts and assorted pseudo-orchestral flourishes. But it's the two parts of "Phantom" that lodge themselves in collective memory with almost no effort at all — a sort of single electro monolith with funk ambitions, served on a silver platter for clubs both mainstream and otherwise. Not epoch-making, perhaps, but undoubtedly generation-defining.

Sébastien Telier – "SEXUALITY" (2008)

If "L'incroyable vérité" lays out all of Sébastien Tellier's future cards, "Sexuality" embodies the erotic soul of the most spaced-out of the French touch troubadours. Eroticism, precisely. Passion, contact, fusion, orgasm and love: the intoxicating gestures of bodies sublimating the direct emanation of the human spirit's purest fragrances. On the cover, a warrior and his horse probe aphrodisiac paths, revealing a new form of naif hedonism, interpreting that inner duality of being male: man/animal, spirit/flesh. "Sexuality" blends Gainsbourg, Brass worship, soul, pop, kitsch howls and a divine quantity of erotic references. It's all whipped together and served with class by Guy-Manuel de Homem-Christo. Lust as the rhythmic metronome: it starts slowly, gracefully. There's a woman's heart to win, to lead her between snow-white sheets, dreaming of soon dancing on soft pillows, carving out in small doses a captivating vocal drive ("Roche"). Tellier draws from his quiver a stimulating array of flaming arrows, chief among them the pornographic "Pomme", propelled as it is by uncontrolled rosy orgasms and a deliberately liquid, at times ethereal keyboard. But it's on "Sexual Sportswear" that the shy Casanova throws open every room of his harem. A magma of compulsive pulsations bubbles over, ecstatic loops and electronic hormones. With "Sexuality", Tellier revels in his synthetic brothels, revealing himself as a soul master, a lacquered sculptor and a pop provocateur.

Phoenix – "Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix" (2009)

Perhaps, all things considered, the most iconic album by the Versailles band; probably their best-known one too. From the seat of the ancien régime, Thomas Mars and his partners in crime metaphorically set sail for Mitteleuropean lands, accompanied by faithful producer Philippe Zdar and inspired by supposed classical leanings (Mozart honored in the title, Liszt in a song) that nonetheless yield danceable hits that are hard to resist. The opening one-two of "Lisztomania" and "1901" represents the most intoxicating moment in the Parisians' entire career, here grappling with off-beat forays that dazzle with their crystalline enthusiasm. But, again, the whole album is a collection of great songs that don't necessarily court easy attention: the two parts of "Love Like A Sunset" — largely, though not entirely, instrumental — prove that these guys, if only they weren't too busy having fun, could also build tremendous rock scaffolding resting on precise interlocking guitars and synths, just lightly spiced with a thin layer of psychedelia.

Kavinsky – "Nightcall" (2010)

Yet another product of the Parisian metropolitan area, a dee-jay first and a composer only later, Vincent Belorgey aka Kavinsky reveals himself, from the very first notes of "Nightcall", as an artist raised on Daft Punk, whose legacy blends here with Eighties synth-pop and a notion of "spatiality" whose source, by now, hardly needs restating (the answer is on page 46: Air, on whose label he ends up releasing it). "Nightcall" isn't an album but a very brief EP, one that nonetheless represents the Frenchman's defining moment, having spent a few years already fine-tuning the perfect club hit. Paired with a track like "Pacific Coast Highway", which in truth owes more to Justice than to its even more illustrious predecessors, "Nightcall" is certainly derivative in its references, yet also one of the decade's most accomplished entries in its field. Among the various versions in existence, it's worth singling out the one on the EP and the more upbeat remix by Dustin N'Guyen, in which it's easier to trace our man's debts to the scene born almost twenty years earlier in those very same parts.

M83 – "Hurry Up, We're Dreaming" (2011)

After ten years of paying dues and steadily growing success, M83, from Antibes, break through with "Hurry Up, We're Dreaming", both at home and abroad, the album becoming a hit in America (Pitchfork gives it a 9) thanks in part to the backing of a label like Mute. A good share of the credit for this breakthrough goes to Anthony Gonzalez, who writes most of the tracks and co-produces alongside Justin Meldal-Johnsen. M83 blend synth-pop, dreamy atmospheres, new wave echoes (these are, after all, the years of the Eighties revival) and melodies capable of drawing listeners in, like that of "Midnight City", which becomes the Riviera band's signature anthem and in which numerous influences echo, including recent ones (the electro of Justice, for instance). M83, however, also look toward pop-rock, as clearly shown by the guitar explosions of "Reunion" and the acoustic ballad "Wait". At times almost cloying, generally rather shameless (in a good way, or almost), it's nonetheless an album that manages to win over a huge audience at a time when French touch isn't exactly living through its best years.

SebastiAn – “Total” (2011)

Pure talent, that of SebastiAn, the stage name behind which hides Parisian Sebastien Akchoté, born in 1981. Considering that "Total" is his "proper" debut long-player, at the tender age of thirty, it's fair to say that our man is no longer a youngster, though on the other hand he was already an established name thanks to a string of remixes and EPs, soon followed by a successful career as a producer. In short, success had already arrived by other means, and the album could wait. Compositionally, our man has pretty clear ideas: his tracks nod as much to French house as to electro-rock, without forcing the song format and indeed coming across as thoroughly commercially viable. There's no shortage of features either: the irresistible "Love In Motion" (a truly outrageous track) features Mayer Hawthorne, M.I.A. shows up on "C.T.F.O", and Gaspard Augé of Justice takes part in "Tetra". Not bad at all, it must be said. More broadly, "Total" really is a record of total freshness and strength of ideas. A scant hour well spent, should you want to give it a go.

Yan Wagner – “Forty Eight Hours” (2012)

First snapshot: Yan Wagner, just a kid, buys a keyboard after seeing a Chemical Brothers concert. Second snapshot: Yan Wagner performs in New York galleries, where he's temporarily living for studies, in what are his first ever live shows. Third snapshot: Yan Wagner returns to Paris and is immediately recruited to open Air's new tour. "Forty Eight Hours" is the first recorded proof of this talent, whose rise seemed unstoppable, especially in the years straddling the 2000s and 2010s. The record bears the mark of Wagner's undying love for techno, and in that sense it must be said outright that the Parisian holds a less France-centric view of the genre. The lovely title track, for instance, has more to do with synthetic Eighties sounds and plays almost like a barely concealed homage to New Order. But perhaps Wagner's real signature is his crooner's voice, which ties him back to his homeland via a hypothetical, and perhaps slightly blasphemous, comparison with Serge Gainsbourg.

La Femme – “Psycho Tropical Berlin” (2013)

Probably the best French album of the entire decade, and certainly the wildest, most inspired, most overflowing. Formed in Biarritz before relocating to Paris once they caught the scent of imminent success at home and abroad (though the follow-up album, still excellent, wouldn't quite reach these heights), the band strings together a batch of simply irresistible songs ranging from the unbridled beat of "Antitaxi" to the psych-rock of "Amour dans le motu", from the blatantly Sixties boogie of "Sur la planche 2013" to the freak-beach dances of "Nous étions deux", while also drifting toward new wave and other detours. The masterminds are Sacha Got on guitar and Marlon Magnée on keyboards, musical partners for several years by then, while vocal duties are shared by various singers (chiefly Clémence Quelennec and Clara Luciani, but not only them). In technique, sound and spirit, we're far from french touch in the strict sense, but if it's true that the term's original meaning has come to absorb a whole range of blatantly French variations, well, there's nothing more French than "Psycho Tropical Berlin".

Carpenter Brut – “Trilogy”” (2015)

The enigmatic Franck Hueso, a native of Poitiers, is one of the leading figures of what we might call the new generation of french touch. His sound undoubtedly falls under the synth-wave banner, yet the formula never lacks a distinctly French accent in its danceable, essentially techno-based rhythms and in its "spatial" setting, which surfaces for instance in "L.A Venice Bitch 80's". The ace up this record's sleeve is probably "Disco Zombi Italy", a big single with just the right radio appeal, but what really flexes Carpenter Brut's muscles are "Roller Mobster", fired off like a bullet toward futuristic horizons, and "Turbo Killer", with its lavish and equally futuristic architecture. It's no surprise that some of these tracks have been used in film soundtracks. It should also be added, for the sake of completeness, that "Trilogy" is indeed the debut album, but - as the title suggests - it actually just gathers together the tracks from the three previous EPs.

Polo & Pan – “Caravelle” (2017)

A pretty stunning album, this "Caravelle", courtesy of two more Parisian DJs named Paul Armand-Delille and Alexandre Grynszpan. Inside we find a formula blending electronics and tropical languor, crystalline pop and assorted swagger, but delivered with such class that it comes across as a kind of French version of early MGMT. And yet the sound of "Caravelle" stays firmly anchored to its home turf, not only through its almost unusual use of the French language, but through that particular touch that instantly gives away its location on the far side of the Alps. The high point of the record is probably "Canopée", a small masterpiece of melancholy beat best sipped on the beach, just as "Aqualand", propelled by synths, has a seaside feel of its own. Electronics take centre stage in "Nana", in "Kirghiz" and also in "Dorothy", all spiced up with exotic languor. Let's just say that of the twelve songs on "Caravelle" there isn't a single one to discard, and above all, it's a record able to win over a genuinely diverse audience. And that's no small thing.

Le SuperHomard – "Meadow Lane Park"” (2019)

Le SuperHomard, from Avignon, are a band we've followed since their debut with "Maple Key", all the way to seeing them truly blossom with "Meadow Lane Park", which at the time was OndaRock's album of the month and went on to be celebrated by critics and artists alike (chief among them Paul Weller) across half the world. Le SuperHomard love to play with the electro-pop side of french touch, building tracks that seem to float in mid-air, like "Springtime", or come crashing back down like "Paper Girl", pulled by the gravitational force of the synthesizers underpinning its arc. We can't fail to mention the vaguely psychedelic synthwave of "SDVB" and the synthetic midtempo of "Black Diamond", further variations on a blueprint that gradually brings to mind various names from the French scene and beyond, from Air to Saint Etienne. What's certain is that this Provencal outfit has crafted a sound that's refined yet at the same time uninhibited and effective, capable of hitting the mark from the very first listen. Without doubt one of the most significant albums of the now-concluded decade for French music.

Nicolas Godin – “Concrete And Glass” (2020)

It seems both genuinely coincidental and rather fitting to close this feature with Nicolas Godin, one of those who helped shape the "french touch" in a decisive way, and who, whenever he sets his mind to it, still has lessons to teach both the old guard and, above all, the new generations. For many years Godin steered well clear of returning to the scene of the crime, but in the end he couldn't resist the temptation. At the dawn of the new decade, "Concrete And Glass" gathers up his own legacy in a sense, though freeing it from retro-futurist ambitions to put it in service of reflections on other spaces, less cosmic and more domestic. "Concrete And Glass" is in fact also a return to the origins of Godin the architecture student. From a purely musical standpoint, tracks like "Back To Your Heart" and the excellent "The Border" directly recall Air of old, reclaiming a formula that no one else has ever managed to approach with equally significant results. Welcome home, Nicolas.

(in memory of Philippe "Zdar" Cerboneschi)

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04/03/2026

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This article is an English translation of the original Italian text by Giuliano Delli Paoli, published on OndaRock.it. It was translated with the help of artificial intelligence, under the editorial responsibility of OndaRock's editor-in-chief, Claudio Fabretti.

Read the original in Italian · About the English edition