She is unique. Hollywood punk, concrete lyricism, sufferer of fools, in the words of the poet herself, she “fucks you up the butt with her dragonfly look.” Brigitte Fontaine is a reluctant phenomenon. People thought she was mad on TV. In fact, she’s just Rimbaudian, and doesn’t give a damn about any of it. Words, yes. Music, yes. Life, definitely. But for anything else, apply elsewhere. A lover of sounds (a key role in the material of her partner Areski Bekacemm), a hunter of rhymes, she has written some of the more memorable works in the French musical canon of the last fifty years (Le Nougat, Comme à la radio, Cet enfant que je t’avais fait, Les filles d’aujourd’hui…). Tracks with multiple layers and (often) a falsely bonkers outlook.

Emerging from the French underground in the late 1960s to achieve full public recognition as an artist in the last twenty years, Brigitte Fontaine released a new album, Terre neuve, a few months ago. The usual immaculate arrangements and finely honed texts. There is consistency in Brigitte Fontaine’s standout excellence. If you want to read more, check out the wonderful biography by Benoît Mouchart, published by Castor Astral. And read B.F.’s own work, in poetry and prose, extracts of which are read here by singer Barbara Carlotti. Transmission, you know.

Thomas Baumgartner
A young man of radio, Thomas Baumgartner worked at Radio France and ARTE Radio before presenting shows on Radio France Culture (Les passagers de la nuit, L’atelier du son, Supersonic), then becoming editorial director at Radio Nova (2016-2018). He has since created his own podcast studio, wave.audio, which produces content, notably for leading daily newspaper Le Monde.