Mô’ti tëi in interview « If I think it’s cool, I do it »

With Ant 1: The Scam of the Mystical Cicadas, Mô’ti tëi delivers a second album conceived as a turning point. Greater control, a more focused songwriting approach, and above all a project that moves beyond the strictly solo format to rely on new partners, a team, and a fully embraced live setup. The record will be released on March 20, and we can’t wait for you to enjoy listening to it as much as we enjoyed talking with this complete artist.

Mô’ti tëi looks back with Blues Actu on the making of this new album.

🎙️ Mô’ti tëi interviewed by Cédric Vernet

You describe this album as a “turning point”. What changed for you between Well Dressed Exile: Second Humming and Ant 1: The Scam of the Mystical Cicadas?

It’s clearly an album on which I felt much more in control. The experience of the first one allowed me to prepare myself better with my instrument, which is the guitar, but also vocally and physically. There’s also the arrival of new partners to help develop my music: the labels Quartier Général for the Americas and ZRP for Europe, with whom I’m licensed for distribution, as well as La Mécanique for booking. I went from a solo vibe, singing my songs sitting on a chair, to having a team of twenty people supporting me, and of course that makes you feel valued.

Your stage name and the album title are full of symbolism. Can you explain what Mô’ti tëi means to you, and how you came up with the powerful title Ant 1: The Scam of the Mystical Cicadas?

My stage name, Mô’ti tëi, allows me to embody the character I want to be on stage, and I wanted it not to remind anyone of someone else. I drew it from a childhood memory: a little boy who mispronounced his name, Timothée, which I then reshaped with my own writing style. The album title is a reinterpretation of the fable by Jean de La Fontaine and also a tribute to all those who dedicate their lives to their passion, creating moments of sharing and improving the way we live together. All of this inspired the cover artwork created by Thibault Balahy: an ant formed by the transhumance of humans gathering around a fire, a symbol of coming together and exchanging through myth, storytelling and song…

On this record you’re very much at the forefront. Is Ant 1 an album you mostly carried on your own?

I’ve been creating alone for quite a long time now. I like that moment when I’m by myself, with this vast construction site where everything still has to be done and where all the parts start fitting together. I experience very emotional moments when a simple guitar melody with a vocal line becomes enhanced by rhythm, melody or backing vocals. Then, once the pre-productions are done, I take charge of the recording again. For this album, though, I did call on several people to help me. Morvan Prat-Cherhal played most of the bass parts, while Léna Rongione and Benoît Macé, who also perform with me on stage, recorded some banjo and bass parts. Marlon Soufflet handled the recording sessions, the mix and some percussion. I entrusted the mastering to Benoît Bel.

There’s something darker, but also more direct in your writing. What did you allow yourself to do this time that you might not have dared before?

It’s not really calculated. The way I write doesn’t allow me to have a truly deliberate direction for my lyrics. I feel more like they come to me. I also don’t think I held myself back on the first album. It gathered songs written over a longer period, at a time when my style was still being built. I rarely have certainties when I write. However, I did have several goals, like integrating bass on most of the songs, or creating more danceable rhythms because I felt that was missing on the first record. I work with the idea of improving and progressing. I don’t limit myself by saying “this isn’t my style, I can’t do it”. If I think it’s cool, then I do it.

“I work with the idea of improving and progressing”

You talk about an album shaped by doubt and then embraced. Is doubt more of a driving force or an obstacle when you compose?

First you have to know the reason behind the doubt, and in this case there was a new one: the fear of comparison with the first album. That kind of doubt is more of a brake. On the other hand, the doubt that comes from questioning whether each element is truly justified is more of a driving force. It pushes you to test things, to push your limits, and sometimes even to surprise yourself.

Your lyrics are very intimate, yet they also resonate with the times. Do you write starting from yourself to talk about the world, or the other way around?

My lyrics are first influenced by a vocal melody that doesn’t really make sense. From that melody usually emerges a phrase that does have meaning. I then reflect on that phrase and try to put something personal into it, while keeping it vague or metaphorical enough for anyone to project themselves into it.

The guitar is really at the center of the record. Is that an aesthetic choice or simply the natural evolution of the way you compose?

It’s my instrument of love since I was very young. It’s also the musician my father admires the most in a band, so he probably passed that on to me. The guitar is inevitably the source of my compositions, without exception.

Some people mention influences like Sting or Eddie Vedder in your melodic writing. I also hear hints of John Butler or Mark Lanegan. Are those conscious references or more diffuse influences?

I don’t really listen to all the artists you mentioned, except for Pearl Jam’s Unplugged. But of course I’m very flattered when people bring up such references. It’s often natural to compare an artist with others we already know. I do the same when I discover someone new. But beyond style, what guided me most was adopting a different approach compared to what I was doing before going solo: being able to play my songs anywhere, without particular technical constraints.

The single Holding Time has an almost cinematic, road-movie atmosphere. Do you think in images when you write your songs?

That’s probably true, although not deliberately. When I talk about songs with the musicians who perform with me on stage, I often describe things through images to convey the intention. I’m almost completely self-taught, so I’ve developed my own language, which I think everyone understands.

In that song you talk about the moment when we must “learn to walk alone again”. Is that a personal image or something more universal?

It’s more of a call to take responsibility, so it concerns me as well.

Your first single, My Deaf Friend, was already very introspective. Do you see this album as a story told in several chapters?

It wasn’t built with that intention at first. But it’s true that you can sense a rhythm evolving across the eleven songs, and you could easily let yourself be carried away and imagine your own story.

Tell us a bit about the people around you on the record, in production and on the road…

I already mentioned the two labels ZRP and Quartier Général who trust me for this adventure with my second album, and I thank them because it truly means a lot to me. For the live side, La Mécanique recently joined us to support the booking, which makes me just as happy, especially since I’m lucky to be surrounded by people driven by passion, which is perfectly aligned with the spirit of the album. They joined an earlier team: Léna Rongione and Benoît Macé on stage, creating a unique live setup where they alternate their instruments and a percussion set built around a bass drum played by hand. And finally there are the two people who have been with me for what we can say is forever: Gaël Atthar, my live sound engineer and much more besides, and Fred Picard handling management and so many other things!

On stage, do you try to stay faithful to the studio versions or leave room for improvisation and accidents?

I’m not really a fan of live shows where the album is simply replayed. In any case, the way I record wouldn’t allow me to play the songs exactly the same way as a trio. I would need too many musicians. I do believe in the beauty of accidents, but I believe even more in the necessity of constraints. Having to adapt the songs for three musicians, sometimes with different instruments, forces us to reinvent them, and it makes the live experience much more exciting.

“I believe in the beauty of accidents, but even more in the necessity of constraints”

You’ll play at La Dame de Canton in Paris on June 4. How do you imagine that show — more intimate or a real burst of energy?

I hope to bring both, because that’s really the DNA of my music. It’s there to help you reconnect with yourself, build up energy, and then release it before going back home.

And after that? Are you planning a tour?

I’m planning many things, including a tour, hopefully internationally. I’m also continuing to write new songs for a third album!