What’s the story behind your latest song/album?

Homeworks is our latest release after nearly 20 years together. We’ve put out several EPs but only a few full-length albums, and in a time when singles and videos dominate, we felt the urge to work on a proper 10-song record. It was important for us to present a body of work, a complete statement. We recorded, mixed, and produced everything ourselves in our home studio around Marseille/Le Rove. It wasn’t always easy, the result isn’t flawless—but it carries the handmade, honest touch that reflects who we are.

How has your creative process evolved over the years?

We don’t really compose during rehearsals anymore. Each of us works individually, recording ideas and demos at home. Then Dapé steps in and shapes those drafts, arranging and producing the tracks until they start to take form. Once that structure is there, we all listen, discuss, adjust — sometimes we deconstruct everything again. It’s a very collaborative but layered process. Over time we’ve learned to trust that method: to let ideas mature independently before bringing them together as a band.

Is there a specific moment in your career that felt like a turning point?

There were actually two. A positive one came with the release of our first album, right when the internet was really taking off. The record was very well received by both the audience and the press, and that feedback gave us the energy and confidence to move forward. It felt like the beginning of something solid. The negative turning point came a bit later, when Guy, our drummer at the time, developed a serious ear injury — hyperacusis — which forced us to stop for a while. It was a tough moment that broke our momentum, but also taught us patience and resilience. It reminded us that music is a long journey, not a race.

What’s one misconception people have about being a musician?

That it’s just fun and glamour. In reality, it’s a lot of work: late nights setting up amps, mixing demos, dealing with logistics, facing doubts. There are beautiful moments, but it isn’t always easy. We’re all over 45 now, with families and kids, so continuing with passion means finding the time to write, to rehearse, to keep that fire alive. What really helps is that we’re still making music among friends — that friendship keeps it meaningful and keeps us going.

Who or what has been inspiring your music lately?

We’ve always listened to a lot of music — both old and new. Our foundations go back to what we grew up with: bands like The Cure, Pearl Jam, Pixies, Nirvana, The Beatles, and also a lot of hip-hop from the ’80s and ’90s — Public Enemy, Beastie Boys, Army of the Pharaohs. At the same time, newer bands like Fontaines D.C. keep giving us ideas and energy. We’re constantly curious, always discovering new sounds. As for inspiration itself, it mostly comes from everyday life — the passing of time, human relationships, love stories. Those experiences shape our lyrics and the emotions behind the songs.

Can you share a memorable or unexpected moment from a live performance?

One that really stands out was our first Myspace show back in 2008 in Marseille. We had been selected, along with Kid Francescoli, to represent musicians from the South of France. At that time, Myspace was the main social network for music, and being chosen felt like a real recognition — almost like a small consecration for us. The energy, the people, the excitement of that night… it was a turning point that made us realize how far our music could travel beyond our circle of friends.

How do you handle creative blocks or self-doubt?

We take our time, and we let it happen naturally. Sometimes I won’t write anything for six months, and then five songs can come in just two days. As soon as we pick up a guitar, a riff or an idea can emerge. We sit in front of the blank Pro Tools screen and just let ourselves go. We do it out of passion, so there’s no pressure — it’s all about letting go.

If you could collaborate with any artist, living or dead, who would it be and why?

Probably our “heroes.” I imagine Dapé might say Robert Smith, and I would say Eddie Vedder. But we also really enjoy collaborating with our friends and fellow musicians, developing ideas together. For example, Seb from Soul Beach, or Toko Blaze, with whom Dapé often works, or even some tracks I’ve done with bands like Ending Satellites. We love the artists we meet on stage or online — those connections often lead to new creative paths and fresh inspiration.

What’s a piece of advice you wish you had received earlier in your career?

Don’t wait until everything is perfect to release something. Perfection often becomes a trap that stops you from sharing your work. It’s better to put something out, fragile and honest, than nothing at all. We learned that with Homeworks.

What’s next for you—any exciting projects or goals on the horizon?

We plan to play as much as possible. We’re starting around Marseille and the wider region, and we hope to get abroad too. We don’t have a major booking team, so we DIY it — but we love that. We’re also working on new demos, some more electronic textures, exploring different colours while keeping the organic heart of the band. Perhaps an EP of remixes. In a few years, we imagine still playing, creating and enjoying music with friends — maybe not always with the spotlight, but always with the same passion. Rock ’n’ roll never dies.

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What’s the story behind your latest song?

When I wrote, “Why I Don’t Go To The Movies Anymore,”  I was coming to terms with the realization that my ideas about relationships were heavily affected by the movies I’d seen.  Life wasn’t turning out to be a Rom-Com, the relationships I’d been in didn’t make all of my problems go away, and the women I was with were more interested in the practical realities of daily life and less impressed with charm and wit. They wanted to know they were with someone they could count on.  It was a difficult realization, one that I’m still working on, because I am up against decades of modeling my expectations of romance on what I’ve seen in films.

How has your creative process evolved over the years?

I used to just let inspiration hit me, go crazy with a song late into the night, for one night or so, and call it good. If I played the song for someone I’d want them to tell me how good it was and if they seemed unimpressed I wasn’t interested in honest feedback. These days, while I’m careful about who I get feedback from (I want to know they are knowledgeable, respectful, and gentle, while still being honest), I rely on feedback to take a song to completion before taking it into the studio. While inspiration is still such an important part of what I do, I have gotten a lot better at editing. Editing is where the work gets more difficult, it slows down–it can take a few days of work to figure out one line–and it’s usually not as fun as the inspiration part. Polishing, refining, sometimes making huge changes–these are the things I’m doing when I’m editing and it’s a good feeling when something just feels complete. So the short answer is: “I’m a better editor now than I was before!”

Who or what has been inspiring your music lately?

Funny, 2 nights ago I woke up with a strange idea, that I wasn’t even sure would work, I was foggy with sleep and just grabbed my phone and recorded the idea. It was a way of singing a line, where the final word gets a strong emphasis, as if it is the answer somehow, hard to explain. Anyway, that morning, I went to work on the idea, without knowing what the song was going to be about, just trying to create lines that had this strong emphasis on the final word. The song evolved and took on a meaningful premise. So, the short answer to this question is: ideas that come to me while I sleep!

How do you handle creative blocks or self doubt?

Great question. Self doubt can be so crippling. For years I couldn’t get started on my dream of being a working singer-songwriter because the inner critic was always around telling me that I would fail so it wasn’t worth trying. Think about the flawed logic of that argument: I couldn’t work on developing my craft because I was listening to a voice telling me that I was no good at my craft. Few people are immediately good at something. Most of us need to work and work and keep working. To listen to a voice that keeps me stuck makes no sense, and I eventually learned to notice it when it was being critical, that was the first step. Then I started to ignore it more. What’s tricky is that the inner critic usually has a seed of truth at its core, and to be able to pick out the truth without allowing the attack is the next step for me. Because honest feedback about limitations and areas that could use improvement are what help us grow. But the abusive voice is something to really keep an eye on because it’s not helpful.

What’s next for you—any exciting projects or goals on the horizon?

I’m excited about my next release, coming out October 9th, a cover version of John Lennon’s 1971 “Imagine” This is a collaboration with my childhood friend Shranny, a talented musician and producer. We were blessed to work with the Budapest Symphony Orchestra on this song.  The beautiful work they did adds a unique depth because this version of “Imagine” features primarily electronic elements.  We’re releasing this song on October 9th, John Lennon’s birthday. We miss you John! Thank you for all the great music.

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If you’ve been waiting for a sign to kick the routine to the curb, consider this it. Audra Watt’s new single, “Livin’ It Up,” hits like a shot of pure adrenaline—a three-minute rock-and-roll sermon that straight-up demands you shake things up. It’s the second release from her upcoming album Start Late, due in early 2026, and if this is what kicking things off sounds like, we’re in for all good stuff.

“Livin’ It Up” packs this kinetic drive you just can’t ignore. The production is this slick, powerful blend of pop, country, and straight-ahead rock that crashes together in the best way. The drums punch with crisp precision, with a foundation that feels built for speed, while the bass gives a steady, propulsive undercurrent. The guitars snap and sparkle with just enough edge to keep things gritty, and a piano line barrels through with the seasoned swagger of a Jersey shore bar veteran. This isn’t a polite, clean mix; it’s a joyful clatter of instruments that knows exactly where it’s going.

Right in the middle of this storm, you’ve got Watt’s voice—and hell, it’s something else. She brings that Nashville realness and her delivery is bold, it’s alive, and every word hits with purpose. Think Shania Twain’s power meets pure rock fury. She’s throwing the lyrics at you with the kind of conviction that pulls you headfirst into the song’s message of courage and self-reinvention. This track’s all about tearing up your old playbook, walking out on that soul-sucking job, and finally becoming who you’re supposed to be. And Watt – she makes you believe every single word.

“Livin’ It Up” is like mainlining pure optimism. When everything feels like it’s weighing you down, Audra Watt comes through with this dynamo anthem that sounds like freedom driven through a Marshall amp. So yeah, drag those windows down, blast this thing, and remember—you’re never too old to start actually living.

How has your creative process evolved over the years?

The first answer to this is by finally honoring and acknowledging my creativity. For quite a long time I was so much about classical technique and studying the way the masters performed and trained, that I really don’t think I was being creative at all. It actually made me afraid of being creative. The stakes of failure are so high in classical music that I was literally terrified of putting MY ideas out there. It took a lot of life, challenges, and resilience to finally be present in my own creativity. Now, I am most organically creative when I have a ton of space and quiet… and productive in my creativity when there’s a pressing deadline. Not really an in-between, but you kind of need both the organic with the productive for anything to actually happen. I find most of my melodies and arrangement ideas come to me when I’m walking, gardening, or staring at a fire pit outside at night with all that amazing stillness around me. That’s when they come organically and I’m not expecting it. Also, sometimes in the middle of the night nursing my son. I have tons of notes in my phone with song lyrics. Again, it’s being present and still. 

When it comes to productivity in that creativity, I need a deadline. During the recording of this album I was pregnant and then in the 4th trimester with my son after he was born. I had a last- minute opportunity to record my original Good and True for a documentary which meant I had to make the most out of little time. So, the horn tracks for Good and True and I’ll Fly Away were done in 10-minute-power sessions at the piano with manic scribble on paper. I ended up really loving those tracks too!

Who or what has been inspiring your music lately?

I don’t think I can answer this without giving attention to the influences of my past, because they are always present in everything I do. Growing up I was always hearing country and blue grass around me. My granny would hum and sing mountain music and Baptist hymns. I don’t remember really tuning in to that when it was happening but I would say it soaked in. I fell in love with Beethoven, Rachmaninoff, and Chopin when I was about 9 years old. Prior to that I loved listening to motown, classic rock, 50s and 60s… pretty much whatever grownups were listening to. I don’t think I ever fit in with my age. The performers that influenced me were Dolly Parton and Tori Amos as vocalists, Julie Landsman, Gail Williams, and Nancy Fako as horn players, and any composer from the romantic era. It wasn’t until adulthood, after hearing a traditional blue grass album of Dolly’s, that something just kind of snapped into place. At that point, tracking down the mountain music of my childhood became a little bit of an obsession. I highly recommend listening to Sheila Kay Adams. She is as traditional and pure mountain as it gets. My family came from the same area in North Carolina (Blue Ridge and Appalachians). The Secret Sisters are really on my mind currently… but in general, my influences are incredibly broad. Folk, country, pop, jazz, classical, even hip hop peaks my interest! Whenever an artist is incredibly honest and vulnerable, I’m hooked. 

If you could collaborate with any artist, living or dead, who would it be and why?

There are two incredibly influential artists that dominate my playlist that I would just lose my mind to collaborate with. Rhiannon Giddens and Sarah Bareilles are incredibly passionate and skilled songwriters with a gift for melody and story telling. Plus, their voices are just beyond perfection. Each of them has stirred my soul in so many ways and been a comfort in both dark times, and when I want to dance like no one’s watching. They’re also absolute lady bosses that just keep me motivated and in awe at the same time. Such authentic artists. I would love to hear our voices together, add horn to their vibe, and honestly, just be in the room for some songwriting.

What’s a piece of advice you wish you had received earlier in your career?

I would tell myself to be braver, sooner. To throw away my checklist, my expectations, my “timeline,” and take more chances. Some think going after a career in orchestral performance is enough of a chance… and it is. But I also placed too much fear and energy into making it my validation of success. I suppressed what made me unique, authentic, and special in favor of a goal that defined me by other’s expectations. I would tell myself to prioritize creating. I would tell myself to prioritize my journey of discovery in that process to get to my most authentic voice, in all its forms. Meaning as a vocalist, pianist, hornist, songwriter, arranger. I would tell myself to nurture my curiosity. 

What’s next for you—any exciting projects or goals on the horizon?

I am so excited! My record label, Parma Recordings, just informed me they chose my album to submit for Grammy consideration. It is officially submitted and the campaign for a nomination is ON! It is so validating they believed in my album enough to be one of their curated choices. It is competitive to get submitted by them out of all the projects they produce every year. I am also working with Vox Novus again on a commissioning call for his “Fifteen Minutes of Fame” project on the theme of Heroines. I am in the process of choosing the final 15 selections as we speak! And, as always, still writing and arranging. I have about 75% of an album of original folk songs ready for workshopping and experimenting with new instrument combinations, and sound concepts. I just can’t stop exploring right now!

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What’s the story behind your latest song/album?

This song is a cry to the world to wake up and see the travesty that is happening in Gaza.

How do you handle creative blocks or self-doubt?

In todays music world, it is very difficult not to drown in a sea of self doubt. Sometimes I feel like all I am is a whisper in a crowded ball game. I just hope that someone listens.

If you could collaborate with any artist, living or dead, who would it be and why?

I would really love to collaborate with Jack Black on something. I have always appreciated his empathy and flair. I just think we could make something impactful and magical.

Who or what has been inspiring your music lately?

Current events have had an effect on my current creations. Also, just a desire to bring some awareness, and also joy to this ever darkening world.

What’s next for you—any exciting projects or goals on the horizon?

I am always creating and making new things auditorily, so you can expect all kinds of things in the future. Some in this vein, and others in all kinds of other veins. I find it difficult to stay in one lane.

CONTACTS: Facebook

What’s the story behind your latest album?

It’s not just one story. It’s multiple narratives. Farewell, My Lovely is an album borne of hypnagogia, trains, virtual anime girls, and Raymond Chandler novels. It’s about traveling to Fallbrook to find a retired famous musician and interview him about one guitar. It’s about waking up at the crack of dawn to help a green and white automaton girl trebuchet the mayor of a coastal town into the sea, then escaping through the backcountry and avoiding fighter jets hunting you down. It’s about burying the Dead Man’s Chest in the Carrizo Gorge, in the shade of wrecked boxcars. It’s about watching someone you love be led to the gallows, sentenced to hang, only for her to suddenly grab a bishop’s ceremonial dagger and cut her own throat. It’s about true stories from places that don’t exist.

Who or what has been inspiring your music lately?

If you want me to name a band that people might know, it would be Pere Ubu. They’ve always been a mainstay in my influence bin. (RIP the true king of rock n roll, David Thomas.) There are a few like-minded musicians I have been working and exchanging ideas with for years now, among them being Monsieur Herr and D. Jefcoat, who have had a notable impact in my trajectory as an artist. Even more recently, I took a road trip out on the historic US-80 from San Diego to El Centro and back. The things I saw out there–and just as much the things I didn’t see–can be called the greatest inspiration for me going forward.

How do you handle creative blocks or self-doubt?

The creative moment is a hidden place, an eye of a hurricane encircled by the chaos of the human condition. It doesn’t conform to our sense of time or urgency. You can’t force it to bend to your will. I deal with “blocks” by waiting them out. I don’t give myself deadlines or impose expectations. The well of ideas might be dry at one moment, but I’m confident enough that it may be full the next time I come around, whether that’s the next day or the next month.

Self-doubt is an inevitability when it comes to exposing your art to an audience for the first time. The instant a third point of perspective, an Observer, is introduced, you become acutely aware of all the strengths and weaknesses of your creation in a way that you weren’t when it was still in progress. While working on Farewell, My Lovely, I gave myself a set of ten “guiding light rules”, based on David Thomas’s Chinese Whispers methodology, specifically designed to curtail second-guessing myself. Among my rules were “trust the first idea you get”, “deliberation is the enemy of the process”, and “don’t worry, it’ll work out”. As someone who is not great at improvisation and can succumb quickly to “analysis paralysis”, I had absolutely no idea what to expect from restricting myself in this way. I found pretty quickly that with these self-imposed limits, I was more confident in the material as it came together.

What’s a piece of advice you wish you had received earlier in your career?

“Ars Longa, Spectatores Fugaces”… Art stands the test of time, the audience comes and goes. As the artist, I follow a course that I have set for myself. The audience has their own course that they set for themselves. Every so often our respective paths will intersect, but only for so long. We put our work up for display in our personal galleries. The audience passes through, focusing only for the moment, imparting their judgment, and moving on to the next thing. They don’t live with the thing their entire life. Therefore, the only option left to an artist is to do nothing short of exactly what they want to do, regardless of outside pressures or judgments. That’s not to say I don’t care if people like what I do or not–I’m a human being, I care immensely about social approval. But confidence in my artistic course, i.e. creating a body of work that I will be satisfied with for the rest of my career, is paramount to everything else. 

What’s next for you—any exciting projects or goals on the horizon?

The next Zhir Vengersky album is already underway. The thesis of the album is as follows: “Liars own all the words… but geography is a language they cannot get their hands on”. The album will be a journey down the US-80 and the Old Spanish Trail, from the Imperial Desert, through the In-Ko-Pah Gorge, into the Live Oak-covered mountains, and finally ending where the city of San Diego is halted by the Pacific Ocean. New production techniques are being adopted for this project, namely junk-o-phonics. With the right components and a soldering iron, almost anything can be fashioned into a decidedly lo-fi, idiosyncratic microphone. Baby monitors, speakers from toy drum machines, guitar cabinets, and even a coffee can with a piezo disk inside are all being pressed into service. Could this be done with a graphic EQ? Yes, it could be, but where’s the fun in that? Perfection and accuracy gets old quickly. I would rather take the long way around and get the sound naturally. Like taking the scenic route as opposed to gunning it down the Interstate and missing all the sights. As you can see, it’s all connected!

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