For me winter is the best time to write and record an album. it’s a quiet time in the forest. the insects have disappeared, the animals have been sheltered in their makeshift shelter, remains only the intrepid and the roughest. 

Since my exile in the forest more than 10 years ago, I have never ceased to evolve like an animal within its environment. I am now a native and feel like a spokeman in my wild world. It’s time to put everything on record. 

Taking advantage of the mild autumn days to replace the support beams on the floor of my tree hut, add some legs of strength, improve insulation and tinker my little wood stove made from a gas bottle, It is well in the warm that I start winter and writing this new chapter.

 

it’s time to revise and repair the precision mechanics of my "home-made" drum kit: spring to change, bearings to ungriper, chains to grease, bolts to tighten, rod to straighten... worse than a bike. Change the vox tubes, bring out the effect pedal stockpile to finally be convinced by the wildest as each time. bringing out the dozens of audio tapes where are engraved all the ideas passed through my 6 strings wild guitar. Searching in the corners of my hideout to dig up every scrap of paper scribbled with words of wild sound and clamor. now it remains only to make a whole association of ideas buried in the bottom of my head and to put them on the line.

I also have to dust my microphone case closing vintage models with magical sounds. play my soldering iron and my bomb contact to make my tube preamp go again like an old massey-ferguson remained in the hangar. Install all this to end in a capharnaüm of entangled cables covering the floor of the hut. After a good week, finally comes the time when I press the record button to lay down the first takes . . .

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. . . to be continued