Henri, you're starting to make it big on the international scene now, but you've decided to stick with an independent label for the release of your third album. Why is this?
Well, I've been pretty happy with the way my label (Buda Musique) works and I really like their approach to music. Don't get me wrong - I'm not against the idea of signing to a major. But if it's just a case of everyone making a big fuss for a couple of weeks and then that's that, I'm not interested. The thing is, the kind of music I play doesn't always get across to young people. They don't understand it. If I was doing rap or dance music, it would have taken off a lot more quickly. But my music's got more of an intimate feel to it - some people have said it's music "with a bit of class". Basically, it's the kind of music people listen to at home. I'm sticking with Buda Musique and Gilles Fruchaux because I think they suit my music better - Gilles gives me what I need. Anyway, I don't see the point in getting involved in some kind of uphill battle. If I ever did get involved with a major, I'd insist on retaining control over certain things.

Would you say your 'intimate' style is representative of African music right now?
No, this kind of music has always existed. It's just never been fashionable before! The thing is, before now African musicians had one sole objective - and that was to sell their records. People wanted something 'exotic' and something 'exotic' meant something you could dance to. But there's more to African music than soukouss or makossa. What I'm trying to do is bring back the great music of the past, the music I grew up with - that's to say, everything from Tabu Ley and Manu Dibango to Francis Bebey, Pierre Akendengue and Miriam Makeba. I want to revive this vast musical encyclopaedia!

Was the title track of your new album - “N'oublie jamais” (Never Forget) - inspired by the nostalgia you feel as an African living in Paris?
I think this song - or the idea I had when I was singing it, in any case - is a song about immigration in general. It's not specific. The lyrics could just as well refer to a Turkish immigrant or a Polish immigrant arriving in Europe or the States. It's a song about being removed from your usual surroundings, about the nostalgia you feel at having left part of your roots behind and, at the same time, putting down new ones. You know, even if you leave your home at an early age like I did, there are things from your childhood that you never forget. Of course, you go on and experience other things, both good and bad, but they never wipe out your childhood memories. Right now I'm living in three different continents - Africa, Europe and America - so I'm constantly getting a different take on life, which means I get the best of all worlds basically. My music's given me the chance to discover a lot of other cultures.

What place does African music have in the United States?
It depends on what kind of music you play really. There was a time when African music was only listened to by a sort of cultural European 'élite'. We were pigeon-holed into one little category and that was that. But when I went over to the States, it was different, I was playing music that no-one knew anything about. African music is doing really well in the States right now. But if African artists go over there expecting to find some kind of Eldorado, they'll be sorely disappointed. The thing is, Americans like to get to the bottom of things. And once they've sussed out where your music fits in, you can't pull the wool over their eyes any more. I've decided to present my music as a fusion - people tend to feel it's not really African, Brazilian or French. My sort of mix isn't classed as 'world'. People prefer to think of me as someone who sings African pop.

Don't you think that, in a way, your music is closer to country than pop?
Yes, it is really. And that's why my music goes down so well in Texas and California. People over there think it sounds a bit like James Taylor or country music. But it's not strictly country, it's my own particular take on country. I mean, people do find it a bit bizarre to listen to someone playing guitar and mixing in everything from flamenco, rumba and samba to classical and African influences. Basically, what I do is mix things up and transform them to suit whatever ideas I'm trying to get across. It's not easy. If you want to distinguish yourself from other artists, you have to get to the point where people hear the opening guitar chord, the first word of a song and say "Oh, That's Henri Dikongué!" When you're instantly recognisable like that, like Cabrel or Goldman, that's when you know you've made it!

Are you interested in asserting yourself as a singer from Cameroon?
I'm a universal artist. Given the mix of instruments and musicians I use, my music could never be anything but a big melting-pot.

There seems to be a darker side to "N'oublie jamais" that wasn't there on your last album …
My new album looks at society as a whole. It deals with everything from cloning to hypocrisy, so it can't come across as positive and upbeat. I don't believe in talking about joy and beauty all the time! I've realised that if you want to change the way people think, you have to go through music. Music has the same power as literature when it comes to getting people's attention. And that's why I like to bring all these different facets into my music. The new album is really eclectic, one minute it's flamenco and violinists from the Paris Opera, the next it's rumba, classical music and a touch of the French Antilles - though I don't really do zouk. It's funny, I think I sort of rediscover my music once I've finished recording it. It takes a while to stand back and appreciate the way it's all put together. Without going so far as to compare myself to a 'cordon bleu' chef, I do think I follow a chef's logic when it comes to making music.

Henri Dikongué's new album, "N'oublie jamais", is released on Buda Musique (ref 82211-2)