You’ve just released Banger on Netflix. How did your experience at Ed Banger influence your debut in cinema?
They always give young directors this piece of advice: for your first movie, deal with a subject close to home. That’s what I did. Ed Banger shaped my formative years, touring, DJ gigs, etc. It was only natural to make a satire about that world, which is rich in material for comedy.
What does the DJ played by Vincent Cassel say, in your opinion, about a certain contemporary Paris?
I don’t know if he really embodies anything, specifically, “contemporary Paris”. What he’s going through - aging in a young man’s industry, facing newer, trendier competitors, fearing he might be out of touch - is pretty universal. But the fact that he’s grumpy and mostly acting in bad faith? That’s definitely very French.
Back when the French Touch was born, what was the artistic climate in Paris like? What made that moment so fertile?
The original French Touch, Cassius, Étienne de Crécy and so on, emerged a little before I was fully aware. I lived in the suburbs, in different circles. I was closer to the Beastie Boys than to the electronic scene, which I didn’t quite get at the time. So it’s only in hindsight that I came to understand the creative ferment and energy from which those records emerged. It was during my first trip outside of France, to New York, that I realised the impact of the scene. You’d hear Sexy Boy by Air or Da Funk by Daft Punk in every store in town. It was a real takeover. Two tracks linked to their iconic music videos too, Mike Mills and Spike Jonze. I don’t know exactly what triggered such a renaissance in French music, but those artists truly put France on the global map of “cool” music in a way none of their predecessors had. There was a snowball effect, and suddenly everyone in France wanted to be part of it.
In your view, what conditions allowed Paris to become such a powerful visual and sonic lab at the time?
If I compare it to the second wave with Ed Banger, I think the key was the sense of a scene. All the original French Touch players grew up together, shared tastes and references, and sometimes even played in the same bands. That’s the Versailles vibe (which was theirs, but not ours). There really was a group effect, a sense of mutual inspiration, which I think is essential for a music movement to take off. And like us, their music came hand-in-hand with visuals, because the same types of people were involved: you had folks making beats, and their friends who were designing flyers. They grew creatively together. They had the same influences, the same mindset, and the same tools. The gear for DIY graphics was evolving at the same pace as the home studio machines their friends were using for music.
Has the French Touch become cultural heritage, or does a living legacy still exist in today’s younger scenes?
I think one doesn’t exclude the other. There’s definitely a kind of retrospective pride in the movement among the French. But I’m not sure that makes it fully canonical. Originally, the French Touch referred to those late-90s groups I mentioned earlier. Ed Banger, whose sound was already quite different, came around the mid-2000s and was often labeled “French Touch 2.0.” Today, everything tends to get lumped under the same umbrella, even though they’re almost two distinct movements, albeit cousins. I wouldn’t be surprised if current or future artists eventually get grouped under that same catch-all label. The term is just too convenient to shelve for good.
Do you think Paris is still a great city for art and creativity? What places or scenes still embody that energy today?
Paris has never really been a city where creativity stemmed from “it spots” like in NYC, Berlin, or London. When Ed Banger was making clubs around the world shake, people we met would fantasise about Paris. They imagined a vibrant scene with countless venues fueling the movement. But in reality, there were never more than one or two active clubs (excluding bottle-service spots), which is pretty strange. Paris is a far more conservative city than its counterparts. These scenes were born in the minds of their creators. They were the dreams of dreamers.
Do young artists and creators in Paris today have the same chances of sparking something new? Is the ground more open or more codified?
It seems easier today to share your work, thanks to tools that are accessible and used worldwide. The flip side is a risk of aesthetic homogenisation. But I have no doubt that inspired youth will always find their own spaces to develop a language and express themselves. Young generations’ creativity is vital energy: it always finds a way.
Looking ahead, how do you imagine Paris in 10 or 20 years in terms of culture, style, and emerging scenes?
I feel like we’ve explored rap in all its forms, and electro revival too. I love both genres deeply, but I’m ready to be blindsided by a new movement. It’s clearly up to the youth now to come up with something new and exciting again, and that goes for music and fashion. Surprise me, please!
Is it still necessary to be in Paris to create something impactful, or has creative energy moved elsewhere, both geographically and virtually?
I don’t think being in Paris matters much anymore. Sounds and images travel more than ever. Sure, the energy of a place can inspire and shape something: that’s important. But I’m not sure Paris is the most fertile place for that anymore. The world feels very open now. There’s no longer a dominant cultural hub where you must be to “make it.” Still, Paris will always be inspiring, I think.