Following the hits of his early years – Aline in 1965, les Marionnettes and J'ai entendu la mer – Christophe disappeared from the showbizz world altogether, taking a prolonged break from the limelight. But he eventually re-emerged on the French music scene with the albums Les Paradis perdus and les Mots bleus and enjoyed a successful decade up until releasing Succès fou en 1983. After that he plummeted back into obscurity and marginality once again, before making an unexpected comeback with his experimental electro album, Bevilacqua, in 1996.

Five years on Christophe has confirmed his singularity and his unusual musical approach with Comm’ si la terre penchait, an album full of ambient moods and lyrical surprises. The album kicks off with a haunting Oriental-style intro (Elle dit, elle dit, elle dit), then segues into a modern electro remake of a 60s smooch number (L’enfer commence avec L). Other highlights include On achève bien les autos (a bizarre erotic ode to automobiles) and J’aime l’ennui (a meditation on the long, inspirational hours before dawn) as well as guest appearances by Isabella Rossellini and blues star Big Joe Williams. We caught up with Christophe prior to the release of his new album and asked him a few questions about his highly original working methods and his career to date:

Christophe, you don't seem to be a man who's in any great hurry to bring out new records...
Time isn't a reality for me any more. Perhaps I'm living according to some limited form of consciousness, but that's just the way it is. These days I make records for my own personal pleasure and enjoyment – I don't try and make any projections into the future, wondering how they'll turn out and how other people will take them.
The thing is, on the last album I went through a big break-up with Epic (the subsidiary of Sony that released Bevilacqua in 1997). They forced me to shoot this video clip at the last minute and I was really unhappy with it. I ended up stopping the clip from being broadcast, which certainly didn't turn things in my favour! That's just the rebellious side of my nature I guess and a lot of people seem to have a problem with it.
I get the impression that only a small percentage of the songs you write actually reach the public...
Well, I've got this shoebox at home stuffed full of DAT cassettes! But, thanks to the new album, I think I've been able to make some kind of projection into the future for once. What's more, I have a feeling the next album won't be too long in coming. My live shows will be a link between the two in a way.

So you're finally going to get back up on stage 25 years after your last concert tour?
Yes, I sit down at my computer every day and work on the project. I'd really like to get someone from the theatre world to look after the lighting. It would be great if someone could come up with a sophisticated lighting system that could cast 'doors' or 'partitions' on stage rather than have those awful green and orange spotlights shining straight into your face. I mean, when you look at what a film director like Lynch achieves with his lighting effects...

Do you see yourself as a musician who sings or a singer who writes and plays music?
I don't consider myself to be a singer at all. Apart from anything else, the way I record is so completely different to other singers. I don't stand there in front of a microphone with headphones on. I never use headphones to filter the music when I'm recording. I stand face on to the speakers instead. There couldn't be two more different worlds, in fact!

But the sound from the speakers must reverberate into the mike when you're recording. Isn't it a bit difficult to get a good clean mix with all that going on?
Well, the trick is to have a grip on it all right from the start. If you want to capture a bit of nuance and genuine emotion in your music, you're going to have to put up with a bit of distortion from the speakers. But I like that, it can introduce unexpected harmonies and add an extra emotional dimension to the work. Musically speaking, I love accidents and fortuitous encounters.
On my last album, Bevilacqua, there were two songs which I lifted straight from a DAT cassette I recorded at home in three minutes flat. And on the new album there's a song called Elle dit, elle dit, elle dit which is a real 'virtual' number. What happened was I had this ambient music coming over the speakers in a loop. It created this really special atmosphere and I just stood there in front of the mike and sang anything that came into my head. Anyway, the next day I went into the studio and re-listened to what I'd recorded, 'cos I do have a professional conscience all the same. I thought I'd have to chuck the whole lot into the bin, but when I listened to the recording over again I realised there was something really going on there. So I left things exactly as they were and used Elle dit, elle dit, elle dit as the opening track on the new album.
You don't always work like that though, do you?
I can spend entire nights in the studio creating what I call a "napping" – a sort of basic layer of synthesiser or piano that I can sing over the top of when I feel inspired. I feel that if you don't want your music to end up sounding like everyone else's, you've got to move on and push things forward, mix things up more radically all the time. I'm not interested in sounding 'modern' or anything. For me, what counts is being 100% myself.
If we were in the studio right now I'd play you this track I've got called Simca Sport 1952. Before my songs get to the stage of having lyrics I always call them after cars or pictures or films. That way I can remember what's what. Before I wrote the lyrics for J’aime l’ennui, for example, the track used to be called Lost Highway. I spent two years referring to it as that, in fact.
Anyway, on Simca Sport 1952 there's no guitar, no drums, there's just the sound of a sampler and two 25-year-old synthesisers. I created this mix where everything's modulated to within a slit second. It's something nobody else could work out and I could never recreate it myself even if I spent my entire life trying! There isn't really any kind of melody on that recording, but there's a strong emotional ambience. And that's what interests me working with "les nappings".

If we were to trace your musical inspiration back to its roots, where would we end up?
The music which got me hooked before anything else was blues and then there was Brassens too. There was always this very particular guitar sound on his records and for me, he was the only blues singer whose lyrics possessed real depth. I'm not bilingual so I don't understand the words to the 'primitive' blues, the stuff that came out before Robert Johnson in the 20s. For me, that blues is more a question of sound and emotion than understanding the actual words. It's the same with the records Elvis released on Sun later in the piece.
The only music that doesn't really move me in any way is Brazilian music. I just can't get into it. But I like a lot of other genres like classical music and jazz. In fact, I've got a big collection of old 78 rpms at home.

Do you feel that your musical background and your past filter through into your songs in some ways?
Yes, I use some very personal things in my songs, things which are secret and embedded deep inside. But I think early memories are very important and always relevant to the present in some way. In fact, I get the impression that the further on I get in life, the more I delve back into the past. I'm constantly drifting back towards memories I have of my childhood and adolescence. From an early age I had this very strong identity as a rebel, a real untouchable. You know when you come from a bit of a 'problem' family, you don't always fit in at school and get on with the teachers – or with other kids for that matter.
I didn't really have much of an education. At the end of the day all I got was my school-leaving exam. I just turned up to the exam, sat there for an hour then handed my paper in. I can't remember one single teacher who liked me at school. You know, I always used to sit right at the back of the class – not to daydream or drift off into my own little world or anything – but because I could hear the class next door having their philosophy lesson. They had this teacher called Monsieur Campocasso. He was great! In fact, he was the only person who interested me at all during my time at school.

So you've got a passion for philosophy...
Well, I never sit down and analyse myself or anything. I'm someone who acts completely spontaneously. I only ever react to things on a purely emotional level. I do this thing when I wake up in the morning though. After the alarm's gone off, I lie in bed for a while and give free rein to my imagination and things just shoot off in all directions. I go into this state I can't even describe. It's like I'm not myself any more. My twin or the underside of my mind takes over and I lie there and listen to what's coming through. And from time to time a little embryo of an idea starts to form and gestate and a few days later I'll give birth to something. When I'm in that surreal kind of state I can generally sit down and write four or five lines afterwards, but sometimes it goes on longer... Frankly, I've never been and never will be the sort of person who lives with their feet on the ground!

Comm’ si la terre penchait (Mercury-Universal 586071 2)