The sensitive mountain » (la montagne sensible) is the nickname Alain Bashung came up with for Arnaud Rebotini. At the height of his fame, after the success of Fantaisie Militaire in 1998, Bashung readily agreed to create an album with Rebotini. The two men didn’t know each other; their record label had introduced them. Bashung brought in “Mortel Battement” and “Nocturne,” two poems by Jean Tardieu, which he recited in a voice simultaneously warm and flat, and Arnaud produced an impressionist soundscape that ended with an apocalypse of metal. Bashung was so proud of their collaboration that he offered to give several interviews to promote the record. Today, listening back to this moving Léo Ferré influenced "talking singing" exercise, it’s hard not to hear the template for L'Imprudence, the album that Bashung went on to record with Rebotini two years later. In a similar way, the album Organique sparked a productive partnership between Rebotini and filmmaker Robin Campillo, which resulted in their being awarded a César for Best Original Music in 2018. The director, who trusted Rebotini to create the soundtracks for his films Eastern Boys and 120 Beats per Minute, never kept his love for the 2000 record a secret.
Yet it’s an understatement to say that when it was released, Organique was not in the spirit of times. That year was all about the French touch. The funky samples of Modjo’s “Lady” and Superfunk’s “Lucky Star” ruled the sweaty dancefloors. Although Rebotini was familiar with the electronic scene, he had something else in mind when he set about creating Organique. Under his own name or under the pseudonyms Aleph, Avalanche, Black Strobe, Maison Laffitte, and of course Zend Avesta, he had already released several quite bizarre and experimental techno, house, or jungle maxi singles on pioneering labels like P.O.F., Source, and Artefact, run by his friend Jérôme Mestre’s, whom he had met back when both were working as record salesmen at Rough Trade’s ephemeral Parisian store. It was at Artefact, still financed at the time by Barclay and Universal, that he naturally proposed this record project, which was a bit "different." It was his first real album.
Arnaud Rebotini has never hidden his love-hate relationship with the electronic scene. He’s a fan of rave music, Rex, and later Pulp, but he listens mostly to metal and contemporary music, mainly American minimalists such as Terry Riley, Philip Glass, Steve Reich. He wanted to mix this genre with a more French aesthetic inspired by Debussy, whose unconventionality fascinates him. From the first suspended guitar note of Organique, you can pick up another influence, possibly poppier. In the style of Mark Hollis, the erratic leader of Talk Talk, whose only solo album’s silences and dissonances left their mark two years earlier, we hear the fingers touching the keys of the clarinet on “Ondine.” The instruments have presence, character. Nothing is smooth. Everything is organic.
Although it’s sometimes labeled as electronica because of Rebotini’s career, there’s nothing digital about Organique. No "pro tools" editing or samples, only programmed drums and some synth layering. And his guest vocalists. Playing the role of electro producer, he invited Bashung, of course, to join him on the album, but also Roya Arab, who Rebotini first spotted while she was playing in Archive, and her sister Leila, Gus Gus alum Hafdis Huld, Kat Onoma’s Philippe Poirier on the “Samuel Hall” inspired track “Qu’est ce qui m’a pris,” and former KaS Product member Mona Soyoc.
The frustration of a tour where he had "little to do on stage," the desire to sing himself, and the creation of the Black Strobe project, a haunting mix of blues and rock, stopped Zend Avesta from putting out another album. Eighteen years later, the Organique we rediscover today has lost nothing of its strangeness, nor beauty. When it came out, Bashung said, "What is interesting for a musician is to feel that you have a piece of wasteland in front of you, something to clear.” That remains true today.
