UNTIL THE spring of 2011, Yann Tiersen found himself constantly on the road, touring with the relentless zeal of a preacher. The tour-bus grind takes its toll on musicians, from its peripatetic nature to living out of a suitcase.
It’s rarely a creative time, but Tiersen decided not to waste a minute. While he couldn’t lug his vintage instruments around with him, he and his band indulged in a love of vinyl. Specifically, European synth music of the 1970s. “I was a teenager in the 1980s and listened to punk, post-punk and dance, but also lots of electronic music. On tour all we listened to was 1970s stuff like Neu!, Kraftwerk and Can, so in a subconscious way I think it seeped on to the album.”
Tiersen was born in Brest, in Brittany in 1970. While Kraftwerk et al were laying the much-mimicked foundations for electronic music, he was the kid who played piano at four and learned violin at six. Musical training at various prestigious academies followed, but given his exposure to punk at a young age, rebellion was inevitable. He ditched the classical instruments and bought a guitar. His first album, La Valse des Monstres, was released in 1995, with initial success confined to France.
Despite growing up in Rennes (home to the acclaimed contemporary music festival Trans Musicales), Tiersen doesn’t connect musically with his homeland. “I don’t think French music is that interesting. There isn’t a proper musical culture in France . . . it’s more about songs than a movement and I’ve just never been attracted by old French music.”
As a child, he remembers his parents' love of Jacques Brel, who he considered "too dramatic", but he admits an admiration for Serge Gainsbourg. Tiersen has remained in France, but moved to Ouessant, an island in the English Channel off the coast of Brittany. The population is under 900, and it's home to Phare du Creach, one the world's most powerful lighthouses. Given that his 1998 album was called Phareand his most recent work is Skyline, his surroundings seem to influence his work. "I like to work here and I prefer to find ideas in the countryside rather than the city. Once the ideas have germinated and started, I can work anywhere."
Surely he would prefer to look out at the sea than be stuck in an airless recording studio? “I quite like the idea of being stuck in a basement with no windows,” he laughs. “There’s one I used in Paris, but then I don’t like Paris at all. Inspiration is more about being relaxed and comfortable, and then the ideas come.”
At the end of the US tour, Tiersen was keen to get back to Ouessant, and bought several vintage keyboards and synths to experiment with. “I like to work quite quickly and bring a sense of unity, to record in one go. Making an album is also about finding something new, and exploring new territory. To be honest, it has been a very slow journey from the first album to this one, but each album has new sounds and that’s important.”
Much of Tiersen's early work is instrumental, and knits together his interest in organic instruments and electronics. The newest element of Skyline, and its predecessor Dust Lane(inspired by a trip to Gaza), is vocals, specifically choirs and choral arrangements. "My goal was to avoid any instrumental tracks. I was tired of that. During Dust Lane, I discovered that instead of just using one vocal, I could use several as an instrument and play with layers and textures. We all sing in the band so it's more natural for me to use vocals."
“The band” are the committed group of musicians Tiersen plays and tours with. When he starts a project, he works alone, but later drafts in band members to work with him. He is a known as a prolific collaborator, working with Efterklang, Neil Hannon, Jane Birkin and Liz Fraser of The Cocteau Twins. Despite his obvious skill with classical instruments, he adamantly rejects labels. “I always feel a bit far from the classical world. When I started using strings and acoustic instruments, it was to try to bring a rock energy into string instruments. I’m not a composer, I just started playing in a band, and carried on making music myself.”
Despite his music appearing in films such as Amelieand Goodbye, Lenin!, he feels that scoring films is problematic. "I'm not that comfortable with it, because I don't believe in soundtracks. Music is something really abstract, you can put whatever music you like in a movie or a scene, but there's no direct link. It's too strange. It's like standing in front of the sea playing violin over the sound of the waves, when the waves work by themselves."
Yann Tiersen plays Vicar Street, Dublin on Thursday
