RFI Musique: Animals have always featured heavily in your songs - in fact, you've sung about everything from bats to flies... Animals are not quite so much in evidence on your new album though - does this mean you've gone off them?
Thomas Fersen: Well, it's an album not a zoo! No, it's true, animals did play a pretty major role in the songs on my last albums. That's because I enjoy using funny old folk sayings in my lyrics - you know, playing with the colourful language people use in the country and which has filtered through into our urban vocabulary. I love all those funny old expressions like "un cochon sur une balançoire" ("a pig on a swing"), "ça te va comme des bretelles à une vache" ("that suits you about as much as braces on a cow!") and "comme une poule qui a trouvé un couteau" ("like a chicken who found a knife"). I enjoy creating my songs from everyday expressions such as these!

But you also have a certain taste for refinement...
...for a refinement that doesn't really exist any more, I'd say. I use a lot of rhyming in my songs and I write a lot in the present tense, using short, concise sentences. I deliberately try and use words which are on the verge of dying out. I like breathing new life into picturesque expressions that people don't use so much these days. I tend to end up with a lot of pleonasm, but then that's fairly normal in songwriting - you always tend to end up using more words than necessary so you can use the words you like. The exceptions on the new album are songs like "Une chauve-souris aimait un parapluie" (The Bat Who Loved An Umbrella) - a song which is completely written in the past tense - and "Les malheurs du lion" (The Lion's Troubles") - where the story is told through dialogue.

You tend to end up saying some pretty outrageous things beneath this rather formal framework...
I guess my songs are a way of getting things off my chest. I suppose it is a bit outrageous really to sing lines like "Il étrangle son semblable dans le bois d'Meudon" ("He strangles his fellow man in the woods in Meudon"). It's kind of exciting in a dreamlike way to feel yourself brought close to death through the figure of the murderer ... My songwriting has definitely been influenced by reading a lot of Jean Genet novels! However, having said that, it's also influenced by real life. I grew up in neighbourhoods where there were some very tough characters. And believe me, there's a lot of refinement in the criminal underworld.
I only get down to writing a song when I've already had an idea about the lyrics. The idea comes first. I don't sit down and say 'OK, now I'm going to write a song about a murderer!' A couple of sentences pop up in my head and give me a basic idea and then I add bits and pieces around the central theme.

Your new album sounds a bit more modern, a bit more in touch with what's going on in real life. But I know you've always refused to the 'chanson réaliste' label...
My songs are always firmly rooted in real life - although I can assure you I don't hang out with murderers! Most of the songs on my new album were actually written sitting at a table in a campsite in Lyon, so I'd say they're anchored in real life and then developed from there. As I tend to work non-stop, these songs are pretty much the reflection of what's been going on in my life over the past two years.
As to whether my songs are 'chanson réaliste' or 'chanson minimaliste', I'd say they don't fall into either category. I couldn't care less about this kind of musical prejudice - although I admit I do tend to have a few prejudices of my own. If people want to miss out on things because of their musical prejudices, then that's their tough luck!

What about the figure 4 emblazoned on your album cover in orange? Is it important for you to make people realise this is your fourth album?
Yes, it's a way of marking some sort of milestone. It helps me know where I am in my career as well. You know, it can all get a bit blurry sometimes … I've had people come up and start talking to me about my last album and halfway through the conversation I realise they're talking about "Les ronds de carottes"! (Ed: Fersen's debut album). It's true, dates are really important to me. I know the exact date each of my albums came out - my debut album was released on the 20th of January 1993, the second album came out on the 14th of April 1995, the third came out on the 18th of April 1997 and my new one came out a few days ago, on the 26th of October.

The cover of your new album is highly original to say the least! The cover photo was taken by Jean-Baptiste Mondino - this is the third album cover Mondino's done for you now, isn't it?
The original idea was to do a photo shoot with a horse in front of the Air Museum at Le Bourget. I've always felt that the airport and the air museum at Le Bourget are real symbols of the 60s. They're built in that typical 60s futurist style. The architecture is totally futurist but at the same time it's got this really old-fashioned feel - even though I hate the word old-fashioned - that modern style which is meant to represent 'progress'. Anyway, to get back to the photo. We were about to do the shoot and then Jean-Baptiste suddenly got up and stopped the traffic, grabbed my ukulele case and stuck it in front of my face. The photo is actually open to thousands of different interpretations - for me, it plays with the idea of modernism from another era, which is also reflected in certain arrangements on the album.

Speaking of photographs, I know you met the photographer Robert Doisneau before his death. Did this have any influence on your songwriting?
I met Doisneau several times in the 80s - he was a friend of my father's. And yes, I'd say Doisneau definitely influenced my writing. Because in a way, his photographs are very much linked to the kind of literature I like - authors such as Prévert and Jean Genet who tried to paint a picture of local neighbourhood life.
After Doisneau died his daughter took me into the studio where he worked in Montrouge. It was amazing. Everything was kept exactly the way it was when Doisneau was alive and his archives were all there neatly arranged in boxes. I found a box marked "horses" and when I opened it, the pictures I found inside were an instant source of inspiration. It's thanks to them that I came up with the idea of doing a collage of the song Bucéphale ("Bucéphale": Editions du Rouergue).

You seem to have felt a particular need to sing in French when you've come back from recent trips - to Scandinavia and Central America for example. Would you agree that this is the case?
When you look at things from a global perspective, you realise that those of us who speak French are just tiny tribes scattered around the world. You know, when I was a teenager I spent a lot of time questioning my identity - like all teenagers do! I spent a lot of time wondering who I was, what sort of person I was going to become, what I was going to end up doing with my life. Singing in French is part of my identity. I like singing in French, but it's also very much linked to the fact I was born here, that I'm impregnated with French language and French culture. It's funny, though, because when I was in my teens I never really listened to much French music at all!

You began your career playing guitar in a punk band, then moved on to rock. Would you say you've found your own voice now?
All I really wanted to do was play guitar - you'll find the rest in my police records! As far as my voice goes, I'm renowned for having a rather husky style of singing. And believe me, my voice gets even hoarser after the sixth or seventh concert! You know, you can go through a period with your voice being all deep and powerful. But the human voice is a fragile instrument. You have to take care of it all the time, you know, be a real pain about air conditioning and things like that ...

Thomas Fersen isn't your real name, is it?
I changed my name when I got back from a trip to Mexico in 1986. It was very simple and straightforward. You can do it by deed poll and you just need two people to come with you as witnesses. That's where the idea for the song "Dugenou" comes from - I'd wanted to write about it for a long time in fact.
Changing your name is like dreaming of being someone else, something else. It's like when you form a group and you all sit round trying to come up with a name which sounds right. It's a pretty incredible process really because when I changed my name my life gradually began to change as well. All my old friends started calling me Thomas. Even my wife and daughter have got used to it now!

Your solo career began eight years ago now in a Thai restaurant...
I was beginning to despair of my solitary lifestyle at the time. I really wanted to get out and have a bit of company, you know, spend a few pleasant evenings in nice, warm surroundings. And so I said to myself, 'Right! It's time to get myself a spot in a piano bar' ... I was really lucky because my friend's wife was setting up a Thai restaurant at the time, in a street just behind Place de Clichy. I went along and sang and my wife accompanied me on the piano. It was just this small restaurant but people who ate there really loved my set. There was always a really great atmosphere - people were always in celebrating birthdays and stuff and the staff from Taiwan Airways kept dropping by with these enormous baskets of fruit...

You have a reputation for being a bit of a dreamer with your head stuck in the clouds, but the dream seems to have a sadder, darker side sometimes...
You know, the more you do what you want in life, the more alone you get. Being a singer doesn't anaesthetise you to things. I don't feel I'm like other singers, I have to explain myself all the time - I hate that - and then there are times when I feel really lonely. I don't want to sound like I'm complaining here. It's just that it's a bit ironic - when I was younger I used to love going off travelling on my own. Now, if I did want to go away for a few days, I'd find myself getting all anxious - you know, where would I go? Who would I go with?