If you dared to pigeonhole Sébastien Tellier by the look and sounds of his first album, 2001’s L’incroyable vérité, a rude awakening would soon be yours. For the incredible truth about the tux-wearing, lo-fi-electro cabaret from the French vocalist, songwriter, and multi-instrumentalist was that each album he’d make after Vérité would be radically, thematically different from the last, all containing soundtracks appropriate to their titles: a sterner form of electro-pop for 2004’s Politics, lush decadence on 2008’s Sexuality, bittersweetness on 2013’s Confection, cozy comfort on 2020’s Domesticated.
For his newest release—Kiss the Beast, with its cover art from legendary fashion photographer Jean-Baptiste Mondino and guest appearances from Nile Rodgers and Kid Cudi—the reigning king of the French touch sound portrays another side of the doting father we came to know from his previous studio record with the most frantic, sensual work of his 25-year-long career and a swirlingly cinematic ambience that borrows liberally from his side gig scoring the likes of Freedom and A Girl Is a Gun.
Tellier enthusiastically Zoomed in mere moments after a live appearance on Parisian television, amped to discuss his rabid Beast with us.
You love a solid theme with like-minded music to back it up when you make albums. What’s the agenda behind Kiss the Beast?
Kiss the Beast, I guess, is an existential topic for me, something with a lot of questions as to whether I am an animal or I am human. Maybe I am just a beast. Sometimes I feel as if I am a kid inside a beast’s body.
Because you’ve written about politics, because you’re preparing a European tour, and because your president is at odds—as most countries’ leaders are—with my country’s president, I’m curious to hear your opinion about him.
When I was a kid I had this toy, the sort of bear you have when you are a child. My teddy bear was orange-colored, and was for my comfort—it was a character in a French television show I watched as a kid, L’Île aux enfants. Trump reminds me of that teddy bear, almost exactly the same.
photo by Jean-Baptiste Mondino
That might be the nicest thing anyone has said, or can say, about him.
In France, to us, he seems very violent. He is just like an American movie: full of surprise. Very theatrical. He’s a super cinematic person, the main guy in the movie.
Since we’re talking about Europe, the Eurovision Song Contest 2026 is coming up fast. You represented France in 2008 with your song “Divine.” What advice do you have for anyone competing with their songs?
You must remember to treat it like a game. It’s not serious, it’s not a real contest—just a TV show. Just something for fun. Personally, my point in doing my song wasn’t to sing in front of the judges. I really just wanted to create a big incident with this cart that I was driving, to be successful in crashing that golf cart. Instead, the organization said that that was impossible to do. It was too dangerous. So I got the gas from a helium balloon, sucked on that, and did the song like this [mimics a high, helium-filled voice]. But no one noticed that. I don’t know, did people maybe think that my voice was really like that?
Considering that you’ve been making music for 25 years, who are you now through all that you’ve gone through?
Do you know that song from Alan Parsons, “Old and Wise”? It’s a beautiful song with a verse that’s even more crazy beautiful. So I feel like that. And yet, at the same time, I feel full of fire, you know? I’m excited—old, wise, and excited.
“Domesticated is just one part of my life—that’s the dad part of me. The rest of the time I’m trying to do the very best with the savage within me, that savage state of mind.”
photo by Jonas Unger
Do you feel as if you’re working off the vibe of your last record? On that album, you sang about the joy of stability, of family, of connection—of settling down. And Kiss the Beast doesn’t sound at all settled, and is instead really aggressive and even tumultuous.
I think that I live my life in two distinct parts. When I am at home, and a dad, I am a regular guy. A chill guy. Now, though, when I am acting as an artist and onstage, I want to be savage. Domesticated, then, is just one part of my life—that’s the dad part of me. The rest of the time I’m trying to do the very best with the savage within me, that savage state of mind.
It's also important to note that since you released Domesticated, you’ve had your hand in several films and television series as a composer or recording artist. Do you feel as if you brought any of those sounds or skill sets into the process of Kiss the Beast?
I do, yeah. I brought a lot of ideas from those soundtracks and that experiment. I discovered new ways into the music. I discovered new musicians, too, and how to better use them—a new drummer, a new flute sound, different keyboard players, a lot of new technology, new gear. It was all about the experience. I wanted the album to have more joy, more light.
On “Thrill of the Night,” you’re working with Nile Rodgers, and as part of your cover’s art, photographer Jean-Baptiste Mondino.
With Nile Rodgers, it was very simple. We were both Chanel ambassadors—you know, the perfume—and I was really impressed at how nice he was. He was so cool and clever. And I was working on “Thrill of the Night” with Oscar Holter, who has produced for The Weeknd, and we both felt like something was missing—that party-at-night vibe. My wife said that I should call Nile for that, as he was the best person to represent that feeling: music for dancing. He was that sound’s creator. So I sent him the song and a text about it, and he sent me back six different-sounding tracks—all super great, all super professional. That was a huge pleasure, just hearing those tracks.
[As for] Mondino, he is obsessed by concepts, and understood immediately the duality behind the spirit of the new album. He needs that story, that strong point of view, in order to shoot the subject, to find that key to the savage. So he gave me fake hair and asked me to take off my sunglasses so he could better see within me. I trusted him implicitly. He asked, I said “OK.”
photo by Jonas Unger
“Sometimes I feel as if I am a kid inside a beast’s body.”
For all of its savagery, Kiss the Beast sounds more tender-hearted. Is that OK to say?
Maybe. You’re right, because I do want to do more simple songs with more simple messages. For me now, it is important to be clear, without cynicism. When things are simpler, they are brighter. My natural playing on piano, especially when I’m composing, is more mellow. I am a mellow fellow. Songs such as “Refresh” and “Thrill of the Night”—they are me. But I have to work to do them. The tender side comes from me more naturally.
Do you feel as if Kiss the Beast has an antecedent, a particular inspiration?
Maybe George Michael’s Faith. He put his voice lower within the record, and for the first time I put my voice lower within the mix. I think of George Michael as being super sincere, but also very glamorous. That was a real inspiration to this record.
I can’t help but wonder why you ended the new album with “Un Dimanche en Famille,” which is both really gleeful and really maudlin. What’s up?
It is happy in a very sad way [laughs]. FL
