L'Empire Des Sons

One of the most sought-after private pressings from the French avant-garde. Remastered from source material. Includes extensive liner notes with unseen pictures of the band

An elusive cult gem resurfaces through Glossy Mistakes. Originally released in 1986, L’Empire Des Sons is an otherworldly blend of synth pop, folk experimentation, and cinematic percussive layers—dreamlike, poetic, and wildly ahead of its time.

L’Empire Des Sons was a fleeting yet powerful transmission from the fringes of the French underground—an album that blurred genre lines and evaded easy classification. Fusing experimental folk, lo-fi synth pop, and avant-garde textures, the record exists in its own sonic universe: poetic, layered, and fiercely independent.

Formed in Saint-Étienne by percussionist and composer Dominique Lentin (Dagon, Fille Qui Mousse) and first-time vocalist Bipé Redon, L’Empire Des Sons emerged from the vibrant DIY spirit of the early 1980s. Their paths crossed during the interdisciplinary project L’Opéra Quotidien, and what followed was an intuitive, deeply collaborative process. “I would bring in lyrics and my voice,” Bipé recalled, “and Dominique would shape the music around the atmosphere or rhythm suggested by the words.”

The result is a collection of songs that feel both meticulously constructed and completely free. Ethnic percussion, marimbas, xylophones, and synthesizers dance around Bipé’s surreal, fragmented lyrics—little sonic postcards from imagined worlds. There’s a theatricality here, but it never feels forced; rather, it’s playful, intimate, and raw.

Despite their inventiveness, L’Empire Des Sons remained a well-kept secret—circulating only in select avant-garde circles and eventually becoming an extremely sought-after collector’s item.

Now, thanks to Glossy Mistakes, this lost artifact returns to the world with new life: remastered from the original tapes, pressed on vinyl for the first time with extended liner notes.

L’Empire Des Sons was never meant to be boxed in. Like the quote from Brian Eno that opens their liner notes—“For the world to be interesting, you have to be manipulating it all the time”—their music resists stasis. It evolves, shifts, surprises. And now, it finally gets the audience it always deserved.