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When I connect with Yseult, she’s in the middle of a very busy week. “It’s been intense,” she says from the back of an Uber in New York. (The previous day, she’d delivered a showstopping performance of her hit “Suicide” on The Tonight Show With Jimmy Fallon.) “But I’m so grateful, and so blessed, and so happy.” It turns out she’s actually FaceTiming while en route to the airport with her team; she turns her iPhone towards them to smile and wave. Soon, they’ll be off to Rio de Janeiro, where she’ll join Karol G’s headlining set at Rock in Rio to perform their viral hit “Alibi,” alongside Pabllo Vittar and Sevdaliza. “They’re the strongest women ever,” she says, breaking into a wide smile. “And it’s a banger all around the world!”
I say “a very busy week,” but really, for Yseult, it’s been a very busy year. The French musician’s distinctive blend of variété française—a genre of traditional chanson best known around the world through the music of Edith Piaf—with contemporary pop production and searing lyrics exploring mental health and body image has grown a following far beyond the shores of her native country for several years now. (Her status as a fashion favorite has helped: she’s walked the runway for Alexander McQueen and Balenciaga, and with the help of stylist Jonathan Huguet, she delivered one of the year’s most showstopping looks in a modern update on Christian Dior’s “New Look” at Cannes.) All of that seemed to culminate with her breathtaking performance at the Paris Olympics’ closing ceremony, her voice shaking the rafters of the Stade de France as she belted out a moving rendition of “My Way.”
It was a long road to this point, however. Having first broken out in France a decade ago, as the runner-up on Nouvelle Star—the Gallic equivalent of American Idol—she was signed to a major label and released her debut, self-titled album in 2015. After facing disappointing sales, she quietly struck out on her own, establishing her own record label (humorously called I Have No Fucking Idea) and releasing a series of EPs that showcased her remarkable range as an artist, from piano-led balladry to techno-adjacent club bangers to alt-rock anthems. And now, with her second album, Mental, Yseult has folded that entire journey into one record: a rip-roaring odyssey through her eclectic sonic universe, from the whispering bedroom pop of opener “Petit <3” to the fuzz-laden reggaeton of “Gasolina” to the raucous hyperpop of “Bitch You Could Never.”
Looking back over the last decade of her career, Yseult feels it’s all those setbacks that allowed her to produce a record as audacious as Mental—and she wouldn’t have had things any other way. “I had to find my own way to be proud of my vision and project, and the best thing for me to do was to be independent—fully,” she says, firmly. “When I say fully, it’s to fully have control of my own art, my own life, my own property, my own freedom. And I know that it’s a privilege because not every artist can pay for everything, and that’s what I’m doing. All the money I make I invest back into my project—so I have to protect it.”
Yseult describes Mental as “raw and urgent and visceral,” and it’s hard to think of a better string of words for it—even with her track record in confessional songwriting, she’s never laid herself out for the listener quite as plainly before. (Well, except perhaps in her 2020 music video for “Bad Boy,” which saw her suspended from the ceiling in little but a set of BDSM shibari ropes.) On lead single “Suicide,” she sings with total, thrilling abandon, her voice cracking and breaking, of an especially dark night of the soul. (“God knows I’ve tried to be good / This is the end,” she yelps, before an outro offers a glimmer of hope: “Can someone help me please?”)
“I kind of understand why some artists don’t want to show their true selves to the world, because you need to have the strength to receive the negativity of the world,” she says. “But for me, to show your vulnerability in your music is the opposite of weakness. It’s so difficult to show to the world your true self and not to hide. And with Mental, it’s important to express what I’ve been through. It might be difficult to hear the lyrics of ‘Suicide,’ and it’s even difficult for me to sing the song over and over again, and face those fears again. But I like to be on the edge on stage, artistically. I embrace every part of my body, my color, my hair, my beauty. It’s important for me to show that vulnerability so that people can connect to me.”
Another element of the project that helped nudge Yseult into new terrain was her decision to sing, for the first time, primarily in English, which opened up a whole new world of genres: “rock, alternative, punk, techno, experimental,” she reels off breathlessly. “Sonically, I wanted to try to do something more ambitious—something very fierce and bold—and I wanted to do something with a stadium sound.” Indeed, just as notable when it comes to the sound of the album is the heavy presence of electric guitars, especially on “Stupid(e)” and “Cute,” which fizz with punk-rock energy. “My background is in more vulnerable, more sensitive French classical songs, but I think in terms of my character, in terms of my personality, I’m a fucking punk,” Yseult says. “I don’t give a fuck about the rules. I don’t fit in the system. So this is the side that I wanted to show right now with this new project. I thought, I’m going to put my fear aside, and I want to be a rock star, period. But I want to be, like, the Black version.”
On the subject of embracing the Anglophone world, she pauses at one point to ask how her English is in the interview. When I reassure her it’s excellent, she turns her team in the car and exclaims: “The English is Englishing, you guys!” For her, singing in the language isn’t just about exploring new sounds, but also leaning into her ambition: While she’s grateful for the success she’s received in France, she now feels ready to take over the world. It’s this sensibility that has also seen her gravitate towards the realm of fashion over the past few years, and the international platform that working with brands like Dior and Balenciaga has afforded her.
As for how the experience of collaborating with some of the world’s biggest fashion houses has shaped her personal style? Here, as in other parts of her life and aristry, Yseult remains her own North Star. “I think I like things that are very hybrid,” she says of what she’s drawn to sartorially. “I don’t like the word ‘complexity’ or ‘complex,’ because I don’t think I’m complicated. I’m just versatile as fuck. So you can see me wearing a beautiful Dior couture look at Cannes, or you can see me rocking a Balenciaga custom full-leather look at their show with crazy white makeup, or you can see me at the Acne Studios show with a more masculine vibe. I think the link between all of that is my freedom. I’m just free. If tomorrow I just want to shave my hair and do a L’Oreal campaign, I can do it and they already know that.” Sounds about right.
Before Yseult could fully relish in the excitement of releasing Mental, she had a couple of important tasks to finish—including uploading her finished tracks to Spotify and Apple Music, which she promised herself she would do while waiting for her flight. “That’s also my job as project manager, so I can’t forget to do it,” she laughs. Does it ever get exhausting, wearing so many hats? “I am the artist, the manager, the project manager, the A&R, the creative director, the producer, the publisher,” she says. “But I’m not tired at all. I have energy. And rage—good rage, in a positive way.”
So for now, her focus is just getting Mental out into the world, and celebrating its release in Rio with her friends and collaborators. “It’s at that point in the project where I feel like I’m giving birth. Like, I just want this baby out. Look at my belly right now!” Yseult says, cracking up and angling the phone downwards. “Just get out of here, baby!” And how, exactly, is she planning to celebrate while down in Brazil? With a few caipirinhas? “I don’t drink, I don’t do drugs, and I don’t smoke,” she says, smiling. “But being in Rio surrounded by Karol, Sevdaliza, Pabllo—being onstage rocking this ocean of people—it’s going to be huge. That’s my idea of a party.”
