They used to be in the same band as Daft Punk. They like the same records too. But Phoenix aren’t – repeat: aren’t – anything like their pals. Jim Butler bonds with the boys who have something for everyone...

Paris, April Fool’s Day and our French cousins are taking the piss – quite literally in fact.  For stood in a kids’ adventure playground while it’s tipping down with rain, Jockey Slut is witness to the somewhat surreal sight of four lads in their early-to-mid-20s larking about with metal detectors, seemingly not actually looking for treasure. Then when things can’t get any more slapstick, five likely-looking teenagers decide they want in on the action. Fielding their queries with a suitably contrary mixture of Gallic charm and aloofness, the foursome – long of hair and wide of trouser – seem unperturbed, even when the Charlie Big Potatoes of the kids starts huffing and puffing and screaming “Wu-Tang Clan, Wu-Tang Clan”. But then nothing in the world of Deck D’Arcy, Laurent Brancowitz, Thomas Mars and Christian Mazzalai, collectively known as Phoenix, is quite as it seems – or quite as it should be.

Phoenix first came to our attention in the summer of last year when their debut single, ‘Heatwave’, captured the sonic equivalent of sunshine and translated it onto vinyl. Spearheading the Source–inspired post-French disco explosion, its euphoric, spectral bliss was like listening to New Order remixed by Daft Punk (of whom we’ll be hearing more later). It was also the greatest dummy sold to the dance scene in years. In truth we were all hoodwinked with the subtle assurance of Johan Cruyff turning a legion of defenders on a six-pence – or should that be centime?

Yet now decamped to the drier climes of their local bar-cum-restaurant (whoever sang the praises of Paris in the springtime obviously didn’t account for the weather playing April Fool’s Day pranks), it seems that releasing ‘Heatwave’ was all part of the Phoenix masterplan. But then again... “It was all part of our strategy," deadpans guitarist Branco, elder brother of Christian. “We have a long-term strategy of ten years and it’s all about surprising people. I think it was a good idea because you know surprise is an important parameter in music and we don’t want to touch only the pop scene or the rock scene, we want to touch everybody."

Touching upon classic rock’n’roll, hip hop, blues, house, country and electro, Phoenix’s debut long player, the aptly-titled ‘United’, manages to sew a seamless thread through what on paper could appear to be a multitude of disparate musical styles. And it’s to their eternal credit that the end result never seems stylised or hackneyed. “It’s a pleasure as musicians to cover new areas. We wanted to have the hot sounds of old school records,” explains Branco. “With the dynamics of electronic records,” finishes Christian. And how they’ve pulled it off with equal parts verve, wit and panache.

In what could almost pass for a modern-day take on The Monkees, Thomas, Deck and Christian all live together in a flat just off Boulevard Saint Germain in the incredibly hip St Germain De Pres area of Paris – known to a legion of beat-freaks thanks to the electronic soundscapes of one Ludovic Navarre: Branco, in a failed attempt at sanity, lives in the flat below. As we head back to the madhouse, Thomas points out that legendary French composer Serge Gainsbourg used to live around the corner and late Francois Mitterand’s once-secret love child lives in the flats opposite. “She lives with this other girl who spends a lot of her time walking around the flat with no clothes on," he slyly recounts.

Funnily enough, it’s this potent mix of seductive nuances and timeless pop that informs Phoenix the most. It’s like when Thomas, while watching the madcap lunacy of Prince’s ‘Raspberry Beret’ video on DVD, reduces the career of the purple elfin, a formative influence – although when is he never on our French chums? – to this one handy soundbite. "A unique combination of bad taste and good music." Voila, I believe they say.

Bad taste and good music. In these increasingly post­modern musical times, an all-knowing irony can go a long way, and this is what Phoenix achieve, as Branco concedes: “There are different levels of quality in music – so at the top level you find the Beach Boys, the Beatles, Iggy Pop and Gil Scott-Heron. But you know that even in the lowest class of music there are good elements and good ideas. So even if it’s not totally cool and totally class, you can enjoy it here and there and that’s what we do – we enjoy it."

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In the mid-90s when a UK journalist labelled the French band Darlin’ daft punk, little could he have realised that as well as planting the germ for the band that saved house music he was also unwittingly sowing the seed for Phoenix. Little has ever been mentioned of the other members who Thomas and Guy left behind, but as the frayed sticker on Branco’s battered keyboard testifies, it was indeed he who made up the Darlin’ line-up with Bangalter and de Homem-Christo.

While acknowledging that Daft Punk are their friends, Phoenix never mention this association and even play down their links with Air, who they backed on Jools Holland’s ‘Later’ show – yet Deck, the one with the asexual pop star cheekbones, does admit that appearing on TV has taught them how to emit to camera (darlin’ – ahem!).

However, two things that the band will accede to is retaining Daft Punk’s grasp of artistic power and listening to the same records as the masked duo. “Yes, we listen to the same records as them," notes Thomas. But we don’t do the same music. And we also see the music industry in the same way, especially in terms of not selling ourselves. We always do things that we like.

It’s this desire to remain in control and not become the lap dogs of the industry that has given ‘United’ its serious but ultimately light-hearted edge. While it’s unlikely to have the techno purists down at Voodoo screaming ‘acid house’, its adroit use of dance music’s more cerebral textures means that alongside such comedown perennials as Neil Young and Saint Etienne, it will become an ‘all back to mine’ standard.

From the Weller-esque plectrum-shaving ‘School’s Rules’ to the organ-drenched downtempo stirrings of ‘Honeymoon’, ‘United’ displays an innate comprehension of the pop aesthetic. It rocks like an alternative soundtrack to that sublime slacker flick ‘Dazed and Confused’, and with the aching West Coast psychedelia of ‘On Fire’, the guitar-fuzz wig-out of ‘Party Time’ – redolent of Beck at his most caustic – and mutant bluegrass country-rock electro groove of ‘Funky Squaredance’ all keeping the pot nicely boiled, only the seriously po-faced will fail to come away smiling. Something that Branco believes is an underestimated quality in music. “You know, sometimes music can save your life – well, maybe not your life but your day. Sometimes you listen to a song and you smile.  That’s what we want to do,” he rallies.

So, you see, there is method to Phoenix’s madness.

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