Interview: Bambounou

When the concept of bass music first took hold, most of the innovation was credited to artists in the U.K., but Bambounou’s catalogue offers proof that there are also plenty of speaker-rattling sounds emanating from the other side of the English Channel. First surfacing in 2010, the young Parisian producer, real name Jéremy Guindo-Zegiestowski, dropped records on French labels like YounGunZ, Sound Pellegrino and ClekClekBoom, but he ultimately found a proper home on Modeselektor’s 50Weapons imprint.

Taking advantage of this freedom to operate, Bambounou moved his tunes beyond simple low-end exercises, developing a real knack for inventive drum patterns while issuing his debut album, 2012’s Orbiting, and its follow-up, 2015’s Centrum. While many of his peers have veered toward maximalism, Bambounou has no qualms about stripping his tracks down to their essentials – in his hands, a quality rhythm doesn’t need a lot of adornment to light up a dancefloor. Now that 50Weapons has come to a close, it’s not entirely certain where Bambounou will head next, but there’s little doubt that his creative streak will remain intact once he gets there. In these condensed excerpts from an interview with RBMA Radio, Guindo-Zegiestowski discusses his early forays into production, working with 50Weapons and the revival of Parisian club culture.

Can you talk about the neighborhood where you grew up in Paris, and what your taste in music was like as a kid?

I’m from Paris and I lived most of my life in the 13th district. It’s basically Chinatown. It’s a very cool neighborhood. I mean, everyone hates it in Paris, because nothing’s happening there, but it’s quite cool.

I remember listening to French rap, to a radio station called Skyrock, which is a very, very famous radio station. Back in the day they used to play Jay Z and all this kind of stuff. Even if I wasn’t a huge fan. I wasn’t following it, you know – I was too young.

I was listening a lot to the radio. Then I switched to metal, but that was when I was a teenager: speed metal and all this kind of stuff, punk as well, slowly sliding to electronic music in general, and then house and techno.

As you got older and you became more and more familiar with the Polish and the Malian sides of your heritage, are there influences that you took from the musical culture of Poland or Mali that are synthesized in your music?

In my music I produce now I got more influence by the African side – all the percussion and the rhythm. When I’m influenced by the Polish side it’s more about the general mood, the feeling you can get while traveling to Eastern Europe. It’s like, whenever I go there, there’s something happening inside of me that I can express in music.

When you were growing up, did you feel like you wanted to identify more with your Polish or your Malian side? Did you change your behavior based on that? I’m curious if there was one culture that you’ve always felt more connected to.

I lived only with my mother, and she’s Polish. When I grew up I didn’t try to identify myself as a white person, as an Eastern European person in a big city. I was just wondering…I had a lot of trouble understanding that people can mix, and stuff like that. I was the result of all of it.

I’ve always been closer to the Polish side of my family. I don’t remember trying to identify myself. Maybe I had some kind of life crisis at a point, but it wasn’t very, very hard. I would just say to myself, “Well, it’s me, and I may as well just go on with it.” That’s pretty much what I do with life, anyway. Whatever happens, happens.

What’s the story of you meeting French Fries? How old were you, and had you been introduced to club culture, electronic music culture before meeting him?

I met my friend Valentino Canzani when we were 13 years old. We were both skating near a spot in the 13th district, so this is how we became friends. We used to meet and go ride some spots. Then we kind of got separated. He did some stuff, I did other stuff. Actually, I knew he was doing some music, because he always did – it started when he was 12 years old.

When I was 16, 17, I used to go to clubs. I was very interested in how to produce a track, how to make a sound, so I cracked Fruity Loops – back in the day when it was called Fruity Loops. Now it’s FL Studio. I cracked it and I started messing with it every day and doing some tracks. I was just enjoying discovering a new way to express myself.

One night I met Valentino again. I was out drinking with some friends and he was like, “You know, I know you’re doing music, someone told me. You should come by to the studio.” His father’s studio. That’s basically how we started hanging out every day.

When you were making Animism, do you remember having specific goals for that release?

When I started doing music, I didn’t know the game at all. I didn’t really care. Someone would tell me, “Hi – release this on my label!” I would not think about it and be like, “Okay, why not?” When I did my first EP called Animism, in 2010, I just released it because I thought at the time it was cool. It sounded good for me.

Now it’s a little bit different. When I listen back to it, I’m like, “Oh, it sounds a little bit cheap.” I liked it at the time. I didn’t know the game at all. I was very innocent. I was just doing music, doing whatever I felt was good.

I had much more fun back in the days, when I think back to it. I mean, I still love producing music. It’s my passion. But when I think back I’m like, “Oh, yeah, that was a great time.” We were just a group of friends doing music, releasing stuff and we didn’t really care.

Were there people who took you under their wing, so to speak?

One of the people who helped me when I started producing was Teki Latex. He was liking this innocent way of thinking, and he was pushing it. Now, I’m very thankful for him for doing that, just not thinking about “What genre should I do?” He was like, “Just do whatever you want.”

He gave me very good advice. He said to me, “Never think about the money when you’re doing music, because then the money is not going to come.” I still say it to myself sometimes.

Talk about your sampling philosophy a bit, and the special relationship to vocals.

Whenever I use vocals in my production I like them to be extremely repetitive. It’s like you get a little bit hypnotized by it, if not annoyed. I guess it’s the same state. I like to think of them like percussion.

The stuff I really like to use for vocals is an erotic audiobook, because it’s some random people trying a cool, suave voice, and telling nasty stories. All the samples are free; you can use them as you want, so you’re never going to get in trouble for taking it and sampling it.

Can you talk about the Cobe EP on 50Weapons?

The Cobe EP, which stands for “Cosmic Background Explorer,” I did when I met Modeselektor in Berlin, when they invited me to play at the Addison Groove album release party. I didn’t know them at all. Out of nowhere during the dinner, they asked me to do an album for them. I got a little bit confused.

I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t think of it; I just thought we were going to be friends and that’s it. I didn’t think we were going to work like that together. I said no at first, and then two days after I sent a mail saying, “Yeah, obviously, I’m going to do it.” They asked me to do an EP.

At that time I think it was my vision of techno. I had started already DJing more techno and I really wanted to produce more techno. I had a feeling that I had to mix everything that I had.

People have been saying that electronic music in Paris is going through a renaissance. Do you agree with that?

Paris and France has been known for electronic music like French Touch, which is basically like house with saturated disco samples, filtered. Very famous band, Daft Punk. I hope you guys have heard of them. They did a really good job by making it worldwide, but then people tend to remember as an artist what you did, and as a country as well. Whenever you say you’re French, they’re not going to expect you to play French Touch, obviously, but they’re going to say your sound is, like, “Oh, it’s new French Touch. It’s French Touch 3.0.” But that doesn’t make any sense.

Paris is definitely going through a renaissance. After French Touch and all these kind of big labels like Ed Banger, some people were a little bit lost in music, didn’t find really what they liked. When Concrete – it’s a party in Paris – started doing their parties, it was actually copied from Berlin, where you have partying on Sunday through to Monday.

It got very popular. I think the new generation wanted something new, something they could appropriate for themselves, not something that had been done already and just renewed, in a way.

I think the fan base for techno and house is very big right now. This happens every weekend, and so much stuff is going on the Internet about that, and people are actually becoming geeks, you know? It’s actually great whenever you’re going to talk to someone who’s going to be at a party. You can feel he’s been through some parties, he’s going to buy vinyls, and you know he’s going to know this artist and this artist is gonna come to discover some stuff. I feel like people are less narrow-minded now because of the Internet.

I have a quote of yours. “When I get an opportunity to do something with people in the mainstream I always try to go for it and aim to make something more hardcore than I usually would. That way, if people love it and it becomes mainstream I’ll have still remained true to myself.” My first question is: do you think you’re mainstream? My second is, what’s the difference between mainstream and underground now?

I don’t think I’m mainstream. It’s not that I’m trying to not make my music accessible. I guess mainstream these days means someone who has a lot of access to a lot of people. In a way, you could be very underground, like Ben Klock, and still be mainstream, because you have access to a huge fan base, a lot of people know about you.

Second of all, what’s the difference between mainstream and underground these days? Seriously, I don’t know. One day someone is going to do a weird-as-fuck track, and the track is going to blow up and everyone is going to love it. The track is going to become mainstream, and what can you do about it? If the track is good, it’s good.

Whenever I’m asked to work with some mainstream people for remixes, or whatever, I’m always going to try to give my point of view of the track: my point of view and how I would have done it, without doing something which I feel would be cheesy for me. It’s actually very funny, because they accept it every time. Every time, I have good feedback, both mainstream and underground.