Jean-Michel Jarre talks creativity, tech and music’s AI future

Since the 1970s, Jean-Michel Jarre has been at the forefront of electronic music, reshaping the live concert experience.

The French composer and producer’s iconic events – such as those at Place de la Concorde in Paris in 1979; Beijing and Shanghai in 1981; Houston in 1986; and London’s Docklands in 1988 – set attendance records and transformed the visual landscape of live music.

Jarre is a true DIY artist, having built the studio in which he recorded his groundbreaking ‘Oxygène’ album in 1976 (with total sales of 12 million). His background includes studying under Pierre Schaeffer, a pivotal figure in musique concrète, at the end of the 1960s, bringing experimental music and new sounds to a global audience.

While he may not receive the same critical acclaim as Kraftwerk, Jarre’s influence and legacy are equally significant. He recently launched his twentieth studio album, ‘Equinoxe Infinity’.

Born in Lyon in 1948, he was raised by his mother, a survivor of the Ravensbrück concentration camp and a member of the French Resistance, after his father relocated to the US when he was five. Jarre’s grandfather, an engineer and inventor who played the oboe, sparked his lifelong passion for music and technology.

“The father figure was my grandfather in my family,” he shares with Music Ally. “He created one of the first mixing desks for radio stations in France before WWII and also the first portable turntable, allowing listeners to enjoy Édith Piaf’s singles on picnics. It was the ancestor of the iPod!”

The defining moment in Jarre’s life came at nine when his grandfather gifted him a tape recorder. He began capturing found sounds, including dangling a microphone from the balcony of his grandparents’ house opposite the Lyon train station to record the bustling street below.

“The area around the railway station had a plethora of interesting sounds,” he recalls. “There were cafés filled with soldiers and street workers, a dairy shop with its unique ambiance, and a nearby square hosting a circus. I was recording all this just for fun.”

(As we will later explore, the circus heavily influenced his live performances.)

Photo credit: Greg Rybczynski @EDDA

The birth of an electronic auteur

An incident with tape recording, where he played it backward, opened new avenues for Jarre (“Suddenly I felt as if aliens were arriving!”). He experimented with these accidental audio techniques in his early music endeavors within rock bands.

However, his true creative breakthrough came when he transitioned from rock to electronic music. He sold his electric guitar and childhood electric train set to purchase his first synthesizer during a trip to London, symbolizing a commitment to leave the past behind.

“At an early stage, I realized that technology dictates musical styles, not the other way around. For instance, Elvis produced three-minute songs due to the constraints of 78 rpm records, which established the single format for radio and jukeboxes,” Jarre explains, emphasizing his fascination with music hardware.

“With synthesizers and computers, you can do so much more than ever before—technology has become indispensable for artists.”

Though he had worked in studios in Paris producing pop and rock music, he sought complete creative control for his artistry.

“In a professional studio, you feel like you’re in an aquarium, with the engineer holding all the power,” he expresses regarding his frustrations. “In electronic music, you must take charge yourself. The two-room setup just doesn’t work for me.”

In the mid-1970s, he had a loft in Paris with an unconventional layout—two kitchens. He converted one into his first home studio, where he wrote and recorded ‘Oxygène’—his third studio album, marking his entry beyond the niche electronic genre.

“I built it roughly and implemented basic soundproofing, utilizing a small console and an eight-track recorder. Back then, technology was limited; synthesizers were few and expensive,” he notes.

“I adapted guitar pedals like phasers and flangers for keyboards. I even salvaged a broken mellotron from a studio and composed ‘Oxygène’ using only the functional notes. ‘Oxygène Part II’ was constructed around the playable notes of this broken instrument.”

These constraints became his guiding creative principles, encouraging him to set boundaries for himself and his music, leading to innovative sound creation.

“That’s what’s fascinating about any art form. Technological limits are vital. This is a challenge for today’s youth in music. Today, technology leads you to believe there are no limitations,” he reflects.

“Currently, if you want specific outcomes, you must impose your limitations. When you’re limited by external factors, it transforms the creative process.”

Photo credit: Erik Voake @EDDA

From outcast to pop sensation

Despite immersing himself in experimental and predominantly vocal-free music, Jarre believes he still operates within pop music’s core principles.

“Melodies have always been paramount for me,” he insists. “Bridging these two worlds was a crucial experiment for me.”

The downside—corresponding to the lack of recognition he receives—was that in his attempts to merge two opposing realms, Jarre felt marginalized by both.

“Avant-garde musicians dismissed my music, as they held a disdain for pop,” he explains. “And in rock music, there was a narrow-mindedness towards synthesizers, deeming real music to be guitar, bass, and drums.”

‘Oxygène’ emerged after a decade of striving to make a name for himself in music, facing rejection from various record labels who couldn’t grasp the concept of music sans a singer and drummer, alongside tracks exceeding the 10-minute length.

Did he feel a sense of validation when the album sold millions—the same for the subsequent ‘Équinoxe’ in 1978—establishing him as a unique star beyond France?

Live performances as a new artistry

Rather than conforming to the traditional rock model of touring extensively to promote an album, Jarre adhered to his philosophy of self-imposed limitations. He opted to perform live—focusing on awe-inspiring, unique events instead of a year-long tour.

While Pink Floyd had ventured outside conventional venues in the 1970s, notably with their 1972 performance in the Roman amphitheater in Pompeii before only cameras, Jarre’s grand debut as an international star occurred on July 14, 1979, at the Place de la Concorde, commemorating Bastille Day. An estimated one million attendees celebrated the occasion.

Keyboards and synthesizers are traditionally meant for studios, not designed for live performances, which is precisely what drew Jarre to the challenge of staging grand concerts using only these instruments.

“Even today, standing behind a laptop or synthesizer lacks sex appeal and convincing energy from a live performance perspective,” he notes.

“From early on, I was determined to craft a unique grammar and vocabulary for electronic music performances, incorporating videos, lighting, grand projections on buildings, and lasers. I firmly believed this should embody the essence of live electronic music.”

During the Paris show, Jarre utilized German army searchlights, removing filters and employing glass slides (to prevent melting) for managing projections onto surrounding buildings.

“After the performance, a man resembling Fidel Castro approached me and exclaimed, ‘I’ve never seen anything like that in my life!’ I thanked him, and someone revealed it was Mick Jagger!” he recounts.

His groundbreaking concert had an undeniable influence, and though Jagger attempted similar performances years later, “Even the Rolling Stones and U2 now incorporate significant visual elements,” Jarre points out. “In those days, major rock acts merely used basic lighting.”

Every show he gave until 1993 occurred outdoors—not only to leverage the location but also due to the poor acoustics of indoor venues, which were generally built for sports or political events.

Despite utilizing instruments intended for studio use, Jarre felt they truly flourished in outdoor settings.

“I’ve always considered electronic music ideal for open-air performances. For me, it’s intertwined with science fiction and space. Being outdoors minimizes reverb,” he states.

“This allows for better sound manipulation. While nature introduces wind sounds, you avoid reverberations and feedback found in halls that aren’t tailored for this genre and instruments, where precise acoustics are essential.”

The transient nature of Jarre’s performances—massive, singular occasions—also reflects his upbringing in Lyon.

“I’ve always appreciated a nomadic approach—similar to the circus,” he observes. “I believe this is rooted in my childhood. The ideal performance is when you arrive, set up camp in a public square, and vanish the next day. That concept has always fascinated me.”

The future aligns with his past

During the 1970s and 1980s, Jarre operated on the frontier with his concerts. In 1981, while performing in Beijing, they even had to temporarily cut off electricity in one district to provide him with the power required for his concert (he learned of this action only later).

However, as with many pioneers, the mainstream eventually embraces their vision.

“When I observe many electronic music festivals today, it reminds me of my endeavors from 25 years ago. I performed at Coachella this year (in April), and the technology was intriguing. I’ve always designed stages myself; this time I created 3D visuals without glasses,” he explains.

“I layered low-resolution transparent screens to craft immersive visuals. This experimentation with technology excites me. Being involved in electronic music has always presented technological challenges.”

Does he believe technology has caught up with his vision of live performances from four decades ago?

“At La Défense in Paris in 1990, attended by 2.5 million people, I had a 40m high pyramid. It became clear to younger electronic musicians that this was the future of live electronic performance,” he asserts.

“Nowadays, with a laptop, you can create many exciting possibilities, democratizing both music and visuals. The real challenge lies in standing out and being unique while using widely available tools—this is what distinguishes an artist.”

(The mention of the pyramid seems to hint at Daft Punk’s Alive tour in 2006 and 2007, recognized as pivotal in catalyzing the dance music boom in the U.S.)

Even with today’s technological advancements, Jarre believes artists, much like he did four decades earlier, must operate within self-imposed constraints, as true creativity often stems from limitations rather than unbounded freedom.

“Modern technology often misleads you into believing it provides all the answers. Each day, countless software solutions emerge, yet many will likely become obsolete quickly,” he warns.

“If you fall into this trap, you’ll fail. My advice to emerging musicians is to carefully select one piece of software or hardware and commit to it for six months to a year—that’s the only way to stand out.”

Photo credit: Mark Tso

Merging immersive technologies with timeless techniques

Given Jarre’s background, it’s no surprise he’s intrigued by the potential of virtual and augmented reality technologies. Rather than solely using cutting-edge tools, he believes that combining old and new yields the most innovative outcomes.

“You can embrace VR and AR while also incorporating older methods by blending antiquated technology with new tools. In my recent tour, while many used sophisticated LED screens, I opted for a different approach,” he elaborates.

“I used low-resolution LED screens for a transparency effect, reminiscent of theater gauze screens, paired with advanced 3D software to create depth in visuals.”

“This exemplifies how we can utilize modern technology while also implementing traditional techniques. In today’s climate, we have the privilege of integration—everything is interconnected in both music and technology.”

Jarre’s upcoming album will delve deeper into VR, although he expresses skepticism towards 3D. “I dislike 3D that requires glasses,” he states. “I’d gladly pay more to experience a film in 2D. VR is fascinating as it lets you envision how music interacts with space—especially valuable for electronic music.”

(Explore Music Ally’s recent white paper on emerging trends in smart and immersive music marketing)

Additionally, Jarre is captivated by artificial intelligence (AI) and its potential to transform creativity.

“In 10 to 15 years, AI algorithms and robots could create original music, films, and stories,” he predicts.

“This will redefine our relationship with creativity; we only utilize about 10% of our brain, so AI could aid us in tapping into the other 90%. This could lead us to extraordinary new creative territories.”

(Read Music Ally’s recent overview of startups developing AI music creation technologies)

Embracing digital democratization while dispelling dystopian fears

Jarre positions himself as a technological optimist, suggesting that public apprehensions about the future stem from feeling disconnected and a fear of becoming obsolete due to fear of rapidly advancing technologies.

“Each generation tends to embrace a pessimistic view—an apocalyptic outlook on the future,” he comments. “This probably has philosophical roots. Everyone understands that eventually, they won’t be part of the future due to life’s inherent limitations.”

However, that perspective may soon shift.

“Perhaps AI could, for the first time, create an empathetic relationship with the future. When we look at the night sky, we see the past; the stars we view might no longer exist. Likewise, much of the internet reflects history, encompassing elements of the past,” he argues.

“AI could become our only forward-looking connection. I’m not suggesting trans-humanism; I envision entities assisting us, technology enabling us to use our brains in transformative ways.”

As an advocate for copyright protection and artists’ rights—serving as president of the global collecting-societies federation CISAC—Jarre firmly believes that technology benefits musicians more than it hampers them.

“The internet’s power lies in its ability to democratize creation,” he notes. “A person in a remote part of Africa or India, previously isolated from the world, can now create, produce, and distribute their music with just a laptop. That’s remarkable.”

Aligning with his utopian thesis, Jarre disagrees with the notion that technology has simplified music creation but acknowledges it has complicated the monetization of it.

“This has always been an age-old dilemma,” he reflects. “Why did Mozart die in poverty while Verdi lived lavishly? One had author’s rights; the other did not. It illustrates the age-old dynamics between art, money, and economics.”

“I believe that ensuring fair compensation for artists in the 21st century won’t become more difficult, but we need to act decisively. I’m advocating for this—not for my generation, but for future musicians. As technology evolves at an unprecedented pace, we must adapt quickly as well.”

When asked how he would navigate the current technological landscape if starting anew, Jarre states, “First, I’d advocate for authors to receive fair remuneration—this should be priority number one. On platforms like YouTube, remuneration is deplorable.”

YouTube’s compensation may be minimal, yet it does exist.

“It’s laughable. One needs millions of daily clicks to secure a base income. Simple regulation could change this,” he asserts.

“Once we address this, there’s no reason why contemporary musicians can’t sustain a living. If I were starting today, I’d pursue a similar path—creating the music I’m passionate about and then touring. Many young artists I’ve spoken to share this sentiment; they long for the same opportunities.”

Discussions surrounding the intersection of technology and music will be central at the NY:LON Connect conference in London this January. Find more details here.