Ahead of the release of his new album Rathlin from a Distance | The Liquid Hour, the composer talks Alex Dewing through the songs that have soundtracked his love of music.
You might not expect house music to be among Yann Tiersen’s Nine Songs, but then again, his work has always thrived on surprising contrasts, much like the man himself.
Since his debut album La Valse des Monstres in 1995, the French Breton musician and composer has built a career on slow, deliberate growth. While perhaps best known for his delicate piano work and melancholic instrumentals famed by Amélie - at least, outside of France, that is - his music has always held something wilder beneath the surface.
“If I look back at my discography, it’s a really slow evolution. There is no big shift,” he reflects. “I came from more noisy stuff when I started, I shifted to acoustic music, and since then, I’ve slowly moved back to more electric and electronic music as well.”
That steady pull toward both past and future is woven through his work. The jagged distortions of Yann Tiersen & Shannon Wright nod to his post-punk beginnings, while the sparse, windswept folk of EUSA captures the rawness of his home. On Kerber, layered electronics hum beneath his melodies, as if testing the waters before total submersion. Intimate yet expansive, Tiersen’s music feels less like reinvention and more like returning to the sounds that have always been waiting.
“I’ve always done records where there are lots of contrasts and different textures,” Tiersen explains, reflecting on the duality of his upcoming album, Rathlin from a Distance | The Liquid Hour. Split into two halves — one deeply reflective and piano-driven, the other drenched in electronic, psychedelic atmospheres — the record is a continuation of his ever-expanding musical journey.
“Before this album, I did Kerber, which was a piano album, and then I did 11 5 18 2 5 18, which was an electronic album. For this one, I wanted to have both and push the two sides a bit further.” The shift between these worlds is not just musical, but also deeply personal and timely. “It was really linked to the news and what was happening at the time,” he adds, noting how the album’s creation was shaped by the political turbulence of the last few years. “It was basically a reaction to the beginning of this worldwide mess.”
Tiersen’s need to balance these contrasting sonic worlds reflects a larger internal dialogue. His music has always been a space where reflection and reaction coexist, with the raw emotions of grief, loss, and introspection providing a foundation for much of his earlier work.
“To me, music was a healing process and a way to deal with death and grief,” he says, discussing the importance of creating after the death of his father.
When some of his most intimate compositions were lifted into the quaint whimsy of Amélie, that conversation was distorted. “It was actually a curse for me because it completely displaced the meaning of what I was doing. It wasn’t sweet.”
Still, he pushes further into that space of self-exploration. “It became something really about introspection, meditation, and finding yourself on the piano part. It’s the first time that I play piano and nothing else on an album," he shares. There’s a tenderness in that restraint, made all the more poignant by the pulsating electronics of “The Liquid Hour,” equally as hypnotic and contemplative. This is an album that feels like the culmination of years of exploration — a blend of inner reflection and external observation, showcasing an artist who continues to evolve, question, and create music that ultimately speaks to him.
And what seems to really be speaking to him is noise. Whether glitchy or punk, hyper-pop or techno, Tiersen remains fascinated by the untamed edges of sound. As he shares his Nine Songs choices, it becomes evident that his own music is not just inspired by these formative sounds — it is finally returning to them.
The restless experimentation, the embrace of noise and momentum, and the refusal to settle all feel like echoes of the songs that have long resonated with him. In these selections, Tiersen invites us to step into his world — and it’s one where music can be reflective but it’s always on the move.
“Hallogallo” by NEU!
BEST FIT: So up first we have some krautrock. Tell me, why is this on your list?
YANN TIERSEN: I think NEU! are such a great band. I had the chance to play with Michael Rother two years ago in Berlin and I was so, so pleased, because he's one of my idols.
Strangely, I discovered NEU! quite late. I mean, "quite late", but not that late, not when I was a teenager, not even when I was 20 years old. My record label at the time was Ici, d'ailleurs... which was a really small label in France, a really good label.
They gave me this record, I was listening to it and I almost had an epiphany with it, I don't know, 15 years ago or 10 years ago, on tour. I literally had been stuck with this for one month, and I was only listening to that.
For me, "Hallogallo", the album in general, but also this track is perfect. It's this gradual change. It's capturing kind of a perfect moment and it's so inspired. The drumming, the guitars, everything; it's really repetitive, but it's changing all the time. I like that Michael Rother was referring to water and the flow of water within it. It's harmony and perfection.
Has that influenced any of your own songs or works?
I'm not sure about influence, because it's just so, so perfect. It’s hard to be influenced by something like that. Of course, the rhythmics are undeniable — they've inspired so much music — but when it comes to me, I’m not so sure.
“Is It Cold In The Water?” by SOPHIE
I was really pleased to see this on the list, as I think SOPHIE’S work was so innovative and interesting. She was taken way too soon.
She really was. I think that Hyperpop and what they did, her and PC Music and that whole scene, it's some of the most exciting stuff that's been happening recently. What I really like about it is it's really freeing; it can be really cheesy and really hype at the same time. There is no good taste, bad taste. There's so much experimental stuff.
And also, there’s bangers. You can dance to it, everybody can love it, but at the same time, it's so inventive. The production is so great too. This song in particular, I think it's a beautiful song. It's really sad. I had a lung infection in 2019 or 2018, I don't remember, I think 2017 because it was before COVID.
I almost passed, so it was quite serious. I went skipping, because I love the sea and I was saying to myself, ‘If I have to die somewhere, I would love to die in water’. It's quite horrible when you have trouble breathing, it's not good.
So, this song is about sadness, but it's also this reference to cold water. I think it's a beautiful song and it touched me a lot. It's one of my favorite songs.
Do you remember when you first encountered the song, or any of SOPHIE’S work?
Yes, it was in a record shop actually. I go to lots of record shops, and it's not that unusual that I'm in the shop and I'm discovering a new album around its release. I really love Arca as well, so I remember picking up and listening to the album the old-fashioned way. I’ve got to start on vinyl!
“Mihoko” by Reiko Kudo
Third up, we have a song I'd never heard of but is truly unique. It’s like nothing I’ve heard before.
Reiko Kudo is a Japanese singer and she performed and made this album with her husband, Tori Kudo. This album and this song are a good representation of them, and it's maybe the easiest to listen to.
Some of the songs I've chosen are on the same page. By that, I mean it captures a perfect moment with a genuine creativity. You can see some live performances of them, with her singing and him playing, and he kind of deconstructs everything he's learned. It's like if he was in front of an instrument for the first time, not knowing how to play it, which is kind of an amazing challenge.
They succeed in being genuine and as if it was the first time, every time on this album. Their music in general also does a lot of stuff with people that don't know how to play music, and I think it’s crazy.
It's really a kind of a purity. It's so genuine, to capture the perfect moment, the perfect inspiration, and ingenuity in front of music. It's crazy. I don't know how they do it because obviously, they're good musicians. So how you can forget everything and start from scratch every time? It's crazy. And I love that.
Do you think that's something you'd ever want to try or evoke in your own writing and performing?
Yes. I started making my own music with my Dad. I started recording music on guitar, but I learned piano first. Piano was actually like a cage, though. It was something where I couldn't be genuine or free.
With the guitar, I was self-taught, but still, strangely, I know the notes and everything, but not when I'm playing the guitar. I don't know what note I'm playing and I've always been following this path in my music: to try to be far from skills and technical skills and routine.
So, yes, most of the time I just have an idea, and I don't use the idea, but I transform it and use it as material. I don't believe in inspiration and all of that. I think it can be really counterproductive, or you know, putting you on the easy path. So I tried to avoid that.
“Spastik” by Plastikman
This next song I listened to the first time the other day preparing for this interview, and it’s wild. Why did this make the list?
This song is completely crazy. Apparently, he was living in Detroit, he was coming back from a club or whatever, and he just messed with the drum machine and did this track. It's funny, because all of it is kind of the same thing, you know, like catching the moment. It's just rhythm, but it's reinventing itself every bar, or every four bars.
It's crazy. It's really long but everything's happening all the time, and its perfect production and perfect inspiration. I said I don't believe in inspiration, but you know what I mean. It really works. When you play this track on DJ sets people just go crazy. And it's just a drum machine!
There is something very hypnotic about it. When do you put this on? When do you listen to this? Is it a song you put on to relax?
Ha, not really. I have a studio where I live, it's also a venue and used to be a disco. I DJ and this is part of the set. I've got vinyl everywhere. I've got vinyl at home. I've got a shed where I have all of my record collection, where it's more rock. In this room, I've got more ‘70s stuff. And in the studio, I have more techno and house and stuff. So, in all of those places, I'm just switched to another mood, and I've been listening to this piece preparing for DJ sets and stuff.
“Kissability” by Sonic Youth
“Kissability” has that distinct Sonic Youth energy — raw, confrontational, and layered. What was it about this track that stuck with you?
The album Daydream Nation is maybe the soundtrack of when I was teenager. I was crazy about this song. It's also a song about that manipulation of young bands, but also about feminism as well.
I think Kim Gordan is such a cool human being. She's crazy. Her new album is so good. It's so crazy to be able to reassert herself now, because she's still great. I've always really been a fan of Sonic Youth, and of her in particular, because I think she's so cool.
When I was listening to this album, I found it’s very rebellious. Here, you're talking about this being an album you listened to when you were younger. Were you a rebel?
I don't know. I've always been a teenager, I still am. I was listening to other stuff, really important albums, like My Bloody Valentine during my teenagehood. But Sonic Youth was so energizing and so inventive with the guitar and lots of noise as well. They were able to smash everything without being ridiculous. I saw them several times and it was always good.
“Stolen Car” by Bruce Springsteen
Springsteen often writes about people on the edge, and “Stolen Car” is no different. What did this character's story evoke for you?
To me, it's almost like a picture, a film, or a novel in three minutes. I like the image of this guy going into the night and being overwhelmed by darkness, it's so sad but so true as well. I can really imagine it, and I think Bruce Springsteen is so talented to be able to shape and to give life to those characters. And I really love that.
Have you always been a Springsteen fan?
No, actually I just discovered Nebraska, because Bruce Springsteen wasn't really my cup of tea, and I think it's still my favorite album, but then I went through the other ones and I love them.
You were talking about it being very cinematic. Are you someone who sees scenes in your head when you're writing music?
To me, music is something really abstract. I mean, it's weird. As a listener, yes, I'm always imagining all sorts of stuff when I'm listening to music. But when I'm doing music, I have absolutely nothing in mind, so it's exactly the opposite. Creating music to me is kind of like trying to be in trance, and it's about excitement, and tripping, and that's my relationship with music.
Then through that, it's like hypnosis, or whatever. Something can come from inside you and then it's in the music, but you don't think about it. It's just in a subconscious or unconscious way. So to me, music is that. But listening to music? I'm like everybody. I'm picturing stories and images.
“Djed” by Tortoise
Talking about tripping, let's talk about this 21-minute sprawling instrumental. Why is this one of your nine?
When I discovered the song, I was listening to the album Millions Now Living Will Never Die, and "Djed" is the first track. There is this break in the middle, well not a break, but you know, it's just this kind of glitchy stuff, which then switches to something else, and that blows my mind.
It was my first encounter with the glitchy side of things, and I really loved that. It's quite old, but I was like, ‘Wow, how did they do that?’ It blew me away. It's old for its time, like back then, working with digital effects and glitchy elements, it was pretty groundbreaking. I just love it. This song is so long, but it’s never boring. The way it evolves, the way it shifts, it’s like a journey. You can almost feel the progression of technology and sound through it, and I find that fascinating.
Do you find yourself listening to something new every time you listen to it?
Yes. I've listened to it a lot, but when I'm listening back to it, yes, I'm discovering new stuff all the time. It’s like peeling back layers with each listen. For me, that's the best thing an album can do — continue revealing new things when you think you’ve heard everything.
“Aikea-Guinea” by Cocteau Twins
Cocteau Twins’ music often feels like a space to get lost in, and “Aikea-Guinea” is no exception. What is it about this song that stands out to you?
I think Elizabeth Fraser is the most creative person on earth with her voice. I've always been such a massive fan of her and of Cocteau Twins. We did two songs together on one of my albums, Les Retrouvailles. When she came into the studio, there's one song we worked on called “Mary” that I wrote lyrics for as well as the melody, and so she sang it.
The other one is called "Kala". She stayed for a really long time listening to the song, to a short loop of the song, and I was really wondering what was going on. It was a really long time, and she's not singing, she wasn't doing anything. And then all of a sudden, she just did so many layers of melodies and it was so beautiful.
That was completely surreal. You know, she just stayed there, and I guess constructed everything in her head, and then just sang it. It was one of the craziest moments I've had in the studio. She's so creative with melodies and voices, she's a genius.
“Pictures On A Screen” by Kae Tempest
Finally, we're at the ninth song of your Nine Songs. This is a very emotional spoken word song about disconnection and isolation on a really interesting concept album.
I think this album is so good. I like the the idea of having this building and hearing the life of everybody in it. It could have been really bad, but it's really good.
This song in particular is so, so sad. You know, there's this guy who's not living and not able to feel. Kae is so talented. With my new album, the title for the second part, The Liquid Hour, actually came after listening to them when I was doing a sailing tour.
I was in the Faroe Islands and I went back through the Shetland Islands, Orkney, Scotland, and then back to Wales and Brittany. So for two months, we've been up in the North. The first city lights I saw was Belfast from a distance. It was me in the middle of the night and I was listening to “Salt Coast” by Kae Tempest.
It was this crazy moment where I was coming from a more natural environment with no humans, and then there's this song and these lyrics that are so human, and there's Belfast from a distance as well, where it's always been about struggle and new life. It was such a big contrast, with nature and us being part of nature. That's why I called it The Liquid Hour and so Kae Tempest became a part of it.
Have you ever worked with them?
No, but we've been on the phone together and have talked about maybe doing something together one day, so…
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