“If you want to insult people with letters, it’s best if you do it with class.” At least, that’s the modus operandi of Niccolo Ricardo and Caius Locus, a.k.a. Nicolas Richard and DJ Kid Loco, whose book, “Les Soniques”, published by Editions Inculte, can probably lay claim to being the most singular work of France’s Autumn literary season. By turns scholarly and satirical, it’s a grand treatise on what it means to make music in the 21^st century—think, Flaubert’s “Dictionary of Received Ideas”, but as conceived by legendary rock critic Lester Bangs.

Photo by Seth Woodworth

Apparently, it all started as an exercise in literary nose-thumbing. The two began writing letters of abuse to objectionable French pop musicians (of which, it may be said, there are many) in a florid, almost Baroque style. Before long, they were writing letters to one another, and hatching the idea for this grand opus, written in a French that belongs to the eighteenth century, but deals with subjects that very much belong to now, like how to mix a rock record, or how best to cook and eat obnoxious pop singers.

Here’s their recipe for crêpes à la chanteuse:

Sauté in the normal fashion and serve hot with salt to taste. It’s also possible to serve the crepes rolled and drizzled with béchamel. Variation: instead of rolling the crepes, fold in half or into quarters and serve topped with grilled pop-singer.

If it all sounds bizarre, that’s because it kind of is: the book is injected with a heavy dose of Dada. Yet the authors told TFT that they also see it as a useful program for people who are serious about making serious music. “It’s a useful manual,” says Richard, who translates works by Richard Powers and Woody Allen, among others. “You’re going to learn about mixing a record, about the music business… there’s also a manifesto about how to make records. It’s a ten point program.”

The ten point program is called “The Belleville Manifesto”, which can be read here. It’s like an anarchist’s rulebook on how to make records—how to produce them anonymously, how not to promote them, and, for that matter, how not to make any money whatsoever off of them.  “If you don’t want to be played on the radio,” advises Kid Loco, “you have to follow these rules, and it works.”

The spirit of the book—its highfalutin mockery and satire—really shines through the letters the duo exchange with the feeble French pop stars in the book, who sadly remain nameless. Which young rock group is it, we wonder, who were sternly informed: “Be aware, young men, that we have proof that more than 81% of people, who say they are your friends, are not.” These are sorts of exchanges that would really benefit from a peek inside the kitchen. But, for Richard, it’s not all fun and games and cannibalism, and neither is “les Soniques” some fey exercise in experimental writing.

“This is not avant-garde at all”, Richard wrote, in I have to admit a pretty spooky email. “I see it more as a manual full of precious wisdom about the recording industry, about making songs, and the punishment a lame singer deserves and will… ultimately… get.”

A dire warning, indeed, for the congenitally lame.  In a way, it made me feel glad that I wasn’t a French pop singer, and oddly, also kind of hungry.

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