Step into the lush, unexpected world of La Grande Salle, the latest EP from French artist Nathan Zanagar, where rain-soaked balconies, mountain trails, and quiet introspection shape the sonic journey. In this candid conversation, Zanagar invites us behind the scenes of his creative process—revealing the surprising places inspiration strikes, the emotional weight behind his lyrics, and the unexpected speed (or slowness) with which songs come to life. From guilty creative rituals to the power of simplicity, this is a glimpse into the mind of a musician who finds clarity in vulnerability—and isn’t afraid to laugh at himself along the way.
If your EP had a scent, what would it smell like?
You’re taking me by surprise with this one! Maybe the scent of my balcony when it rains… or a wooden mountain forest. But I might just be saying that because I simply love those smells.
What’s the weirdest place or situation where inspiration for this project struck you?
It’s not weird for me, but it might surprise some people to know that I get a lot of my ideas while hiking in the mountains. That’s actually why I chose that setting for the Occupe Toi music video.
Which song on the EP felt like a total surprise — one that turned out totally differently than you expected?
I was really surprised by how quickly we created the title track, La Grande Salle. I wrote the music and the melody at home in a day, and I think Yasmina had written the lyrics quite quickly too. Then with Théodore Eristoff working his magic in the studio, we finished the song in a single day—which had never happened to me before. Usually, I go back and forth, correcting and refining things over time. So to have it come together that fast was definitely a surprise. It felt a bit magical, honestly.
On the other hand, I was equally surprised by how long it took to finish EDA. I wrote that song years ago, and we went through so many versions—rock, pop, reggae, urban—you name it. We kept trying to ‘make it work,’ and in the end, I realized the best version was the most stripped-down one: just piano and voice. It’s funny how it took years to arrive at something so simple. The song didn’t need more. We should’ve seen it earlier.
What’s one lyric you wrote that still gives you chills (or makes you laugh)?
My first French single, Le Jeune—which literally means ‘The Young’—had this lyric in the chorus: Mais ça va, ça va, même si j’y arrive pas, which means ‘It’s all right, it’s all right, even if I can’t make it work.’ It was a song about that stage in life when you’re expected to know what you’re going to do with your future, but everything still feels too wide open and you don’t really know who you are yet. Over time, singing it live, I realized how much that very simple phrase resonated with people—and how it still resonates with me, even though I’m no longer at that exact stage in life. I still feel something when I sing it.
Let’s say La Grande Salle gets turned into a film. Who directs it? Who stars in it as you?
Me. And me. But you know—if Steven Spielberg wants to do it as well, I’m open to discussion.
Have you ever cried, danced, or screamed while recording vocals? Be honest.
Yes.
Which emotion was hardest to translate into music: joy, anger, or vulnerability?
I’m not sure I find it hard—honestly, it’s the reason I make music in the first place. I think it’s often easier for me to translate an emotion into music than to talk about it.
Haha! I have no idea—maybe a sexy rock’n’roll smirk, a gentle face, and a ‘let’s go dance’ kind of look?
What’s your creative guilty pleasure — something you do that’s not “cool,” but always works?
Again, I’m not sure. Maybe walking back and forth alone in my place, singing and talking to myself? You always look a bit crazy doing that—but to me, it feels like an essential part of the creative process.
