Jazz and techno fused in outer space? All in a good day’s work for French artist Laurent Garnier, writes Oliver Clasper

“The idea of space, and the obsession with outer space, is very interesting. If you look at Sun Ra and [John] Coltrane, they were obsessed with these ideas. Then look at Underground Resistance, look at Jeff Mills, the guys from Detroit – they’re into the same thing."

At various points in our conversation Laurent Garnier segues from a seemingly alien dimension and starts waxing lyrical about African-American politics, freeform jazz and homegrown electronica from late 20th century Motor City. His words bring to mind local pioneers from the early Detroit techno scene, such as Derrick May, Kevin Saunderson, Carl Craig, and Kenny Larkin – figures who lived the music and inspired others to make it and play it. And while he may only have been there sporadically, it’s more about what key element Garnier, as a fraction of his myriad inspirations, took on board. He has, after all, been living at the forefront of the techno movement since the early 1990s – and it shows. In truth, the answer comes from something May has often said of this music: “you can get as technical as you want and you can get as many computers as you want, but the simple element that makes it all come together is soul.” It’s a soul that transgresses boundaries, nations even. If you’ve got that, you’ve got the music.

Anyone who has heard or witnessed Garnier’s personal vision of techno – from his debut LP Shot in the Dark in 1994 through to the more visionary and all-incumbent live projects he’s been creating more recently in concert halls from Montreux to Tokyo – will recognise the man has soul in abundance. In fact it’s safe to say that The Man with the Red Face, his much-acclaimed 12” from 2000, with its soaring trumpets, warbling synths, unforgiving kick drum and opening bass line, is probably one of the jazziest and most soulful techno tracks of all time. And that’s saying something more than two decades on since Detroit first gave her sound to the world.

Garnier’s unerring adoration for the origins of, and connections between, different musical forms drops into the conversation like high-hats flying above the rumble and drone of the low-end bass of regular chit-chat. Over the phone from his home in the south of France – having traded in the clanking industry and funk of the capital for la vie tranquille – we begin discussing the subject of outer space, which has long been of special interest for black artists in the States (think Miles Davis, Jean-Michel Basquiat, Drexciya and Rob Hood). But it soon becomes apparent that his love for jazz is what’s clearly driving the man forward.

Garnier views jazz, in its purest, most unadulterated form, as being predominantly experimental, growing often and randomly from the bubbling subconscious. The same can be said of techno, and its evolution, as Garnier, who became a self-avowed ‘jazz freak’ when he moved back to France from the UK, explains: “Jazz is the equivalent of techno; it’s the same. For me, it’s the same frame of mind. The roots of the music are important. Techno came from Detroit, and it was born out of frustration in a place where if you were black you didn’t have many choices in life. It was about survival. And then music was definitely a way to survive in Detroit. Jazz was the same in 1940s and 50s America. One of the ways you could survive, and be someone, was to make music. Both of those forms of music were born out of frustration. Not to make people dance, or make a global thing out of what you were doing. Those kids were having a tough time making a living, and they wanted to create something fresh. The birth of the music is very similar.” I ask him whether it’s not just the music but also the culture that connects jazz and techno in more ways than people realise. “Oui, definitely,” he says.

And so here we are, amid the freeform nature of his latest work. Garnier says he hasn’t played a solo set for two years, having chosen instead to concentrate on what he has dubbed LBS – which stands for anything from Live.Booth.Session, or Loud Bass and Samples, to Laurent, Benjamin, and Stephane. And it’s this boundary-breaking, rule-ignoring approach that Hong Kong will be privileged to encounter this fortnight. “It’s a very special project for me, because it’s a result of having toured promoting the Kleptomaniac album,” he says. “We toured for 18 months, with a band; so alongside Benjamin [Rippert] and Stephane Dri [Scan X] I had a saxophone player, a trumpet player, and then a whole gang of people. Sound and light and stuff like that. It was a really interesting, exciting time. And LBS is the result of this. It’s like a juice, you know. If you take a lemon and squeeze it, LBS is the juice from the live show, basically. It’s stronger, we play much longer, and the aim is to spend time developing each track.”

The original project (which eventually spawned the Public Outburst LP in 2007) was more in the traditional concert format and didn’t allow for long sets. By paring it down and taking it into the club space it gives them license to play four-hour sets – developing and tweaking the sound as they go. It’s also louder, more intense, and more concentrated. “We’re playing a lot of new tracks,” he explains. “Let’s say if we play Acid Eiffel, people would hear the first four minutes, but then the track goes in a completely different direction. It’s something that’s never been released; same with Gnanmankoudji. That’s the idea. To make the tracks live, and to make sure the track can follow an evolution.”

Asked whether he misses the solo gigs, or the back-to-back sets with DJs such as Jeff Mills or Marky (his six-hour marathon with the Brazilian drum’n’bass DJ at The End in 2005 being a case in point), and Garnier audibly shakes his head: “If you go with a [new] project you have to be 100 per cent, and that’s what I’m doing with LBS. At the end of the day, that’s who I am. I want to give more to the crowd. I feel that just playing records, or just playing CDs, or, you know, fixed format, I feel a bit… bored with that. But I do play records alongside LBS, and I have the freedom to create something live. And that is special. I’m giving them much more than a DJ set.”

In many ways it’s a shame that other DJs and producers from Garnier’s generation (he’s pushing 50) have either fallen by the wayside or are content to stay within their comfort zones, rolling out endless classics without a mind for what’s new, or where the experimentation is coming from. For Garnier, however, it’s not only the breakaway projects with full instrumentation that sets him apart from his contemporaries, but also his deep interest in the sounds which have emerged from, in particular, the dubstep scene over the last few years. He says it has inspired him to keep going, to keep progressing, and to reject stagnation. “Today I buy a lot of dubstep records because I find it very exciting. And having lived for so many years in France it opened my ears to African and Brazilian music again. We grew up with these songs on the radio, and Italian songs. It’s part of my education.”

Keeping an eye on the ‘future sound,’ never letting go of the live element, always pushing, always staying excited: that’s Laurent Garnier. His all-consuming passion for the music, and his excitement going into new projects, is palpable at every turn. It’s these qualities that set him apart from the pack. He’s in love with the sound he wants to make, and in love with the sounds that inspire it. And that’s what makes a great musician, whether here on planet earth or in the outer reaches of space.

Laurent Garnier brings his Live.Booth.Session to Volar on 19 Feb. See listings for more details.