Tracking Miossec down to a fixed appointment is no easy business. Indeed, even his PR person appears to have trouble keeping tabs on the elusive "new chanson" star. "Miossec's off doing a TV show with Juliette Gréco." "He's right over the other side of France right now." "Sorry, Christophe's busy making his video clip with images his Dad shot on Super 8!" It seems the only solution to tying Miossec down to an interview is to arrange to turn up to his hotel in the lower reaches of Pigalle and converse with him after he's had a heavy night out on the tiles. Partying went on long into the night it seems, as Miossec and his record label celebrated the release of his fifth album, 1964.

When RFI Musique's trusty reporter turned up for our interview, the 'beast' was still in his lair. But a tousled-looking Miossec finally emerged from his room, willing to answer questions. Miossec likes to describe himself as a singer-songwriter in the same vein as Sylvain Vanot and Dominique A. And, strangely enough, once again Miossec's new album has hit record stores just a few days after the latest offering from Dominique A. According to Miossec, the parallel release was a matter of sheer coincidence. "Let's say if anyone's to blame it's bad luck," he says with a grin, "I remember I was at this dinner party where Dominique told me he was bringing out a new album in February. And I was like, that's perfect! Because at that point mine was scheduled to come out earlier. But I got behind with things and then we had to go back into the studio to put the finishing touches to it. Owing to that little hiccup, 1964 and Dominique's album, Tout sera comme avant, have ended up coming out at the same time. All my fault, of course!"

The interesting thing about the new offerings from these two musical 'cousins,' is that both albums have found their authors moving away from minimalist sounds and experimenting with more full-bodied arrangements in their work. "I don't know what happened there," jokes Miossec, lighting his umpteenth cigarette of the morning, "Who do we think we are? We've both got really bigheaded about things this time round! No, seriously, right from the start of the new album, I've cited Bashung as a major influence. He's been a real role model for me in terms of proving that you can do French 'chanson' without doing cheap mainstream stuff or music that sounds like Kyo. The arrangements on 1964 are actually by Joseph Racaille (who worked on Bashung's album Fantaisie Militaire). And, as it happens, Dominique also ended up enlisting a number of Bashung collaborators, working with the team behind the album L'imprudence. I guess that's what you call keeping it in the family!" Given the luxurious quality of the string and wind arrangements on Miossec's new album, we can only say it's a pity this 'family' didn't get together sooner!

Miossec's husky tones, smoked raw by countless packs of cigarettes, really come into their own on a track such as Ta chair ma chère, weaving themselves around the vibrant brass intro. And his voice quavers with barely contained anger on another outstanding track, Dégueulasse. As for the enhanced arrangements this time round, Miossec comments, "It's funny, but right back on my earliest demo tapes, I'd stick strings in everywhere, even mixing string arrangements with my rubbishy synthesiser sound. So you can imagine what a kick I got out of having Racaille conducting the orchestra on the new album!"

Dégueulasse, the opening track on 1964 kicks off with a woman leaving her lover. And her parting words will sound eerily familiar to French cinema fans. They sprang from Miossec's pen, but as the singer is the first to admit, they are not entirely his own. "I dredged the words up out of my memory somewhere," he says, "before I realised I'd actually stolen them from Patrice Leconte's film, Le mari de la coiffeuse. I love that film. I think it's really moving. It's a funny film, really, because it's totally popular and mainstream, but it never sinks to the lowest common denominator." After realising his "blunder," a shamefaced Miossec got straight on the phone to Leconte (the renowned director of Les Bronzés) to offer him 50% copyright on the song. "I was amazed," says Miossec, still obviously knocked out by the director's response, "Leconte simply turned round and said, 'No thankyou! I'm just happy my film inspired you in some way."

Cinema has proved to be an inspiring force in Miossec's work, but the singer has never harboured any secret ambitions of becoming an actor – despite the fact that his rugged features would be a director's dream. "To be honest, I've had my fair share of offers," Miossec admits, "but acting's not really my line of work!" And it's no good pointing out that, in the past, Miossec's work experience has ranged from journalism to working as a docker and comic book vendor, the singer insists that "the acting profession's a special case. You have to know why you're doing things, you know. It's no good just being in a movie so you can get your face on the screen! You have to do things for the right reasons." Miossec has found one reason to get involved in French cinema, though, accepting a small part in Pascale Breton's first feature film (due to hit cinema screens in September). "Pascale's a friend," he says, "and someone I think is immensely talented. That's the reason I agreed to be in Sous le grand ciel."

The conversation inevitably moves towards 1964 (the e of Miossec's new offering), evoking major events such as France withdrawing from NATO and the release of Jacques Demy's French cinema classic, Les Parapluies de Cherbourg. "Jacques Demy?" laughs Miossec, "You're better off talking to Dominique (A) or Katerine about that. Demy's more their scene than mine!" Miossec was still in his pushchair in the early 60s, but even so the supposed golden age does not appear to have made much impact on him. "I get sick of people going on about the 60s all the time," he complains, "People are always saying 'Oh things were so much better back then!' OK, so maybe it's true that in the modern world we've lost a certain innocence people had back then. But all I can say is, it's lucky some '68 extremists didn't end up winning their revolution, because some of them would have been quite happy getting the guillotine out to silence their opponents

Miossec has a penchant for throwing provocative statements into the air and leaving them hanging there (c.f. the lyrics to another song on the album, Stade de la résistance). He is no stranger to rebellious acts, either, the most famous of which was when he refused to go and pick up a "Prix de la Chanson" awarded him by Paris City Hall that was to have been presented to him by Juliette Gréco. "Yeah, that caused a bit of a scandal at the time," laughs Miossec, "But I think Juliette's forgiven me since. These days, the person I get stick from is Gérard Jouannest (Gréco's husband and pianist). He really tells me off when I bring songs in for Juliette, complaining that it's absolutely impossible to play what I write left-handed!!! He has a real go at me. But then Juliette comes in and asks if everything's OK. And how can it not be when she's standing there like charm itself with her smile lighting up the whole room!"

Miossec seems to derive immense satisfaction from writing for artists as diverse as Bashung, Bauer, Mass Hysteria and 'chanson' icon Gréco (whom Miossec affectionately refers to as "Jujube"). "I know it sounds awful to say it, but you can't help feeling proud when you go to a concert and see someone else standing up there on stage singing your songs," he says, "And it's all the more amazing when the singer in question is Juliette Gréco or Bashung. I have to admit, it's all a bit perturbing, but then it's good to be perturbed. You feel like you're about to wake up in a sweat from this really weird dream!" One of the dreams Miossec still has to fulfil is writing for husky-voiced Belgian alternative, Arno, although he claims he has never plucked up enough courage to bring the subject up." "It's ridiculous. I'm on the phone to Arno for hours and then I hang up afterwards and it's like 'Shit, all that waffling on and I never even slipped in a word about writing a song for him!" Hard to believe that from a man who, on 1964, proves to be a true master at manipulating language and emotions!