Simo Says Dance, and FL Louis Ensures You Do

Simo Cell, French DJ and producer, has touched dancefloors worldwide – the phrase “Yes, DJ,” has bounced off the walls of international clubs, warehouses, and illegal raves. An artist with a sound that defies categorization, he bends electronic music to tell stories that resonate with him, and subsequently move his audiences. Polyrhythmic, minimal with meticulous detail, and entertaining – Simo Cell is an experimental electronic music wizard. As we previously described in our Dekmantel 2025 Guide, he will hit you with drops that are laced with infectious dembow drum lines or hi-hat compositions, which will completely shift your understanding of what a DJ and producer do in the first place. His latest EP titled FL Louis is an extension of his teeming artistry that has suffused everything he touches, whether that be his live sets or his discography as a producer. FL Louis, is not just about Simo – we are introduced to FL Louis itself, a puppet that graces the cover of the EP and is embedded in its fast, flanging sonic waves that disrupt convention. Louis is set to become a permanent extension of Simo’s sonic and visual language, a new face to his ever-evolving identity as an artist. The possibilities are endless, from music videos to possible live sets – this is ventriloquism at its finest. Join us in the pleasure of watching an artist explore the malleable borders of electronic sound with ease. 

To start, how are you?
Really good, the month of May is really intense every year – everyone is waking up from winter. I was touring in the US, then went straight back to France to shoot the video clips for FL Louis last week! It was really intense but also really fun!

Exciting! I love your new EP, it’s so fun, and the combination of the distorted vocals with staccato bass is phenomenal. How do you feel about the project?
Thanks!  FL Louis feels like the start of a new era for me. It’s something I’ve been building toward for a while without even realizing it. I read this comment recently, of me “retouching the French touch”, I love it haha. I see the album as what French touch could sound like in 2025. I wanted to push its energy into new territories: rougher, faster, and more minimal sometimes. ‘Circuits‘ is playful but also precise. I love when a track sounds a bit simple at first, but actually there’s a lot going on under the surface.

Could you dive deeper into your relationship with French dance music and French touch?
The first electronic music track I clearly remember hearing was “Around the World,” I saw the video on TV as a kid. When I was 14, I started getting really curious about DJs and electronic music. Cables everywhere, a kind of mystery around it all, I found myself wondering: What are DJs even doing? I went to a music store and bought the Fuck Me I’m Famous compilation by David Guetta. But the real shock came when I found Justice’s set at I Love Techno 2006 after hearing “We Are Your Friends” at a party. That’s when I started digging and bought turntables… I even learned that I Love Techno set by heart, down to the minute. I used to loop all of Justice’s sets endlessly. SebastiAn, Feadz, Mr.Oizo… Artists like Teenage Bad Girl, Les Petits Pilous. This really aggressive sound was everywhere, and it was perfect for a 16 years old kid. Back then, the sound was naturally gritty—not just an aesthetic choice, but also a result of people playing low-quality MP3s ripped from blogs.

Then came another major influence from that era: the label Institubes. Surkin, Bobmo, Para One, Teki Latex, Das Glow… My favorite label at the time. They were mixing rap, ghetto tech, Soulseek culture, Chicago house. It felt like this wild land of contrasts. Totally blew my mind. It was huge. A whole part of my generation (though we’re all doing different things now) started with those same references. I remember talking to Anthony Naples about it, he was a big fan of Bobmo too. These guys were just like us, from the provinces, and somehow it all went global. That wave was really powerful. Later on, I discovered the deeper layers of the French touch legacy—the early days with I:Cube, DJ Cam, Gilbert Cohen… and of course the next wave: Roulé, Crydamoure, and the Daft Punk universe. Every phase was both a slap in the face and a discovery. But it’s not something I ever really expressed through Simo Cell—until now. I’ve been making electronic music for 17 years, it’s been a long journey !

What do you think separates French touch (house) from its US counterparts, which would most notably be Chicago house?
I think there is a big connection. Daft Punk is the biggest advocate for French touch. The first wave, ‘French touch 1.0´ was Daft Punk and their contemporaries. There was even one before, but it’s more of a debate for nerds haha. So it’s not that important. But yeah, there was and is a big connection – Daft Punk was actually really inspired by Chicago House. Their music was their way to reinterpret Chicago house.

If you listen to the track “Teachers” from Daft Punk, they’re mentioning all their peers – all the artists who influenced them, and most of them are from Chicago. If you’re not really familiar with house music and want to listen and understand the roots of it, you can take all the names from “Teachers,” and then you can have a pretty nice landscape of what was happening at the time. So yeah, French touch was really influenced by Chicago House, but, there’s production techniques that are different. French touch is famous for its filtering. The resonance on the filter, the weird notes, and weird little tweaks that come out of it is what makes it so iconic. Filtering, flangering, and sidechaining are three main techniques that make French touch so unique. Additionally, I feel the drums are a bit more compressed in French touch.

A big difference is the visual aesthetic. Chicago House is more of a proper underground scene, most of the visuals are concentrated around the centre label of the vinyl. French touch, on the contrary, embraced big visual concepts, for example, Daft Punk, they were also  marketing geniuses. They were the first to use metro advertisements to market their music. There are crazy clips, there were all these iconic filmmakers that were making music videos for Daft Punk (Spike Jonze, Michel Gondry). So it was a crazy moment where music was also visual and it was similar pop in a way.

Can you explain the figure of FL Louis, the enigmatic mascot and “voice” to this project? How did you come up with this?
Throughout the album, there’s this robotic voice, it’s the sonic signature of the record. It started as a sound experiment – I was playing with formant filters, weird synthetic voices, and at some point this character appeared. Not just a voice, but an attitude. A puppet with too much confidence and a bit of a glitch in the brain. I actually created a physical puppet to embody this voice. The art direction and design were done with Nic Parainoa, and the puppet was built by Dennis Capparella, who’s a set designer at La Scala in Milan. We’re going to release 6 short videos/clips with the filmmaker team The Circumstances, and filmmaker Giorgio Cassano. I wanted to channel that raw, unfiltered creativity that was in early 2000s music videos. We need more quirky things now than ever. I was thinking of characters like Charles the Dog from Daft Punk or Flat Eric. That period wasn’t just about the music, it was also a golden age for visuals, for creatures and mascots that stuck with you. Having a character to embody the music is one way to expand the perception of it. It opens a different door into what I do. For me, it’s a way to help more people connect with my sound. 

What was interesting to me is  your mobilisation of FL Louis is reminiscent of a certain death of the author –  the replacement of a physical DJ/producer with an inanimate object with a persona. I was wondering if it’s a core aesthetic that developed within French touch or were you specifically inspired by Daft Punk’s impact and vision?
It was really linked to French touch, but I think there were also others, it was not only French touch, it was just the Zeitgeist, the spirit of the time. I think there is always stuff happening for a certain reason. For instance, Gorillaz are not French touch but were also puppet masters, and there’s tons of other examples. There was more money at the time in music, you were actually making money by selling records. So it was also a place for experimentation, you could be more ambitious than just with the music. It was a really different context. 

But the interesting thing now is that, I don’t know why, but mascots or puppets are in the air again. I was talking about this project earlier with another producer, I was like, “yo, okay, I’m going to release this thing with a mascot”. And he was like, “are you serious? I’m doing a mascot too”. There’s also this French rapper called JuL, he just released a video featuring another rapper called Blazé and there’s puppets there too! Crazy. I don’t know, it’s happening again for some reason – we are in this 2000s revival.

I was going to say, I’m hyper fixated on recession indicators. Not that we need an indicator, but just as in 2008 with the resurgence of house music, the aesthetics of the past are coming back.
So there is this rule where trends follow a cycle of 20 years, right? We always go back to when it was 20 years ago. And I was always wondering why 20 years? Why is it this number? And I think I have a theory now, when you’re a teenager, everything you see is a massive shock. You’re the most open to influence when you’re a teenager, and then between a teenager and becoming someone with an influence, it takes roughly around 20 years. Right now in my generation, I’m 35, I see a lot of people being influential art directors. What was the most important for me, the most influential, was what I saw when I was a teenager around the age of 15. So I think it explains this 20 year gap. Because when people start to listen to you, when you start to have more influence as you get older, you just recreate what you saw and what inspired you when you were younger. 

I think that makes a lot of sense. I can’t speak to it personally because I’m 22. And for me, I have no idea what those 20 years could have done.
Yeah, for sure. For me, it’s the first time I’ve actually experienced this revival. I was aware of this cycle, but last week I was in Paris and there were a bunch of kids in the street with a speaker listening to Yelle – a huge artist that I was listening to when I was 15. I felt like I was back to the future. It was crazy. They were wearing the same clothing and everything, it felt nice. 

Cute. Start them young. Keep them going.
Yes.

You’ve previously imbued your separate projects with a certain aesthetic vision and vibe, but FL Louis is different – its larger, how will it contribute to your visual language moving forward? What do you see FL Louis becoming into?
The previous projects and their aesthetic visions were my efforts in learning how to be more ambitious, I was discovering things. I needed to earn more experience in a way. And this time with FL Louis, I think it’s something more ambitious. FL Louis gives me a way to explore questions about identity, technology and communication in a more playful way. I’m also thinking of doing a live set with him.

I was going to ask, would you ever do a face-to-face or a back-to-back with FL?
Yeah, maybe just him on stage. I don’t know, with a band or something – it’s in the process. I’m already cooking the next bits for FL Louis because it feels so fresh, it’s a new chapter.  So yeah, the question now is how to make FL Louis exist in a longer way. I’m learning now. Everything is possible with FL Louis. The fact that he can just exist in the real world is crazy to me. I mean, I literally built a puppet, I’m just starting to realize it. It’s insane. So the idea is to keep this uncanniness going. I’m developing this as a long-term narrative, with a consistent thread that will unfold over the next few years.

I feel like your music is the epitome of “expect the unexpected,” but what can we sonically expect from the rest of the FL Louis universe?
I’m planning a series of EPs under the FL Louis aesthetic. Right now, I’m working on full-on filtered house tracks, going deeper into the different layers of the French Touch sound.  The story of FL Louis is just beginning. It’s a character with a playful but sometimes critical perspective on the music industry. Through him, I’ll be able to address deeper or more sensitive topics in a way that’s more accessible.

Funny story: We were just finishing shooting the Paris videos, and I had to bring FL Louis back to Nantes (my hometown) in this massive wooden transport case. When I got to the train station, the conductor told me I couldn’t board because it wasn’t considered standard luggage. I tried to negotiate for five minutes… no chance. So I opened the case and showed him FL Louis’s head. I started showing clips from the shoot, explaining that he absolutely had to go home. The guy was moved, and in the end, he let me board.

On another note, “blow the conch” is one of my favorite tracks by you. It has a lot of repetition.
It’s funny you mention that track, because that’s actually where the whole FL Louis project began. That weird voice sound on the snare (you can hear it from the very start and throughout the track) is made with the same technique I used to create FL Louis’s voice. It’s called a formant filter. At first, I was just trying to make a kind of VIP techno version of “blow the conch”, but little by little it turned into something way more stripped-back, centered around that voice. “Circuits” was the breakthrough: the door that opened up this new aesthetic for me.

What does repetition in your music mean to you? Does it have a specific emotional purpose?
I like the feeling when something loops so long that it starts to dissolve or feel unstable. I think it plays with expectation and release. it makes you question how long something can hold before it breaks. That’s really powerful to me. Also, repetition in my music often acts like a character. Sometimes it’s not what changes. It’s how you change in relation to it. The loop stays the same, but your emotional position towards it shifts, which creates a kind of narrative tension without any storytelling.  

That’s beautiful. You have made a huge dent in the club music scene, I say this with confidence – I have almost all your songs on my USB, and I have first-hand seen what “Yes.DJ” does to a room full of people. Can you meditate on the place of YES.DJ within your own artistic journey, how it came to be, and how it changed you as an artist after?
Thanks for the kind words! “Yes.DJ” was born in a very spontaneous way during the pandemic after 3 months of not touching ableton. That moment marked the start of a new, more intuitive approach to making music for me. Before that, I used to work on four or five tracks over six months or even a year. I’d spend ages tweaking, second-guessing, obsessing over every detail. It was intense, introspective, and honestly, exhausting. Studio time felt heavy back then. But “Yes.DJ” was different. It came quickly, and it felt fun. It was also my first release on my own label, and that was a turning point: not just in how I released music, but in how I thought about what a release could be. I also put out a fanzine with it to archive drink tickets (a piece of dance culture). That’s when I started thinking about building a full universe around each project, instead of just releasing club records. A more transversal, artistic mindset. Something that reaches beyond music to deliver a vision.

The feedback was so surprising. I was hearing the track everywhere, friends were playing it on web radios and DJs were dropping it in their sets. I’d show up at parties and there it was. It became my first real hit, and I’m not afraid to say it, it’s a club classic now. That’s something I’m incredibly proud of. Even though I was already recognized in the scene, it was mostly for my DJ sets. This record put me on the map as a producer with a capital P. So to answer your question, “Yes.DJ” definitely changed something, and I feel lucky, because I’ve seen some friends who’ve had big hits and then felt haunted by them – stuck trying to chase or recreate that success. That’s never happened to me. I’ve never felt blocked by “Yes.DJ”. You can’t force those moments. They happen when they happen.

YES.DJ also includes the iconic track “Farts,” how do you come up with the names for your projects?
You know what? I never even realised it was a bold move to name a track Farts, not until someone pointed it out. Because it’s in English, and that’s not my first language, there’s a kind of distance. I mean, I would never call a track Prout (which means farts in French), I’d be way too embarrassed. I honestly don’t know. I have this notebook where I write down all the Wi-Fi passwords from places I visit. Some of them are so ridiculous and I use them as titles sometimes. Before that, I used to take names from old Age of Empires cheat codes (How Do You Turn This On, I Love the Monkey Head). Names come to me!

That’s so interesting, people always giggle when I put it on – have you ever intentionally mobilised satire in your musical practice?
I’ve read that some people think my music is humorous. I don’t really see it that way. For me, it’s about emotion, storytelling, playing with energy and tension. I take what I do very seriously when I’m in the studio, but that doesn’t mean I have to take myself too seriously. Especially in a creative industry, where everyone seems to be trying so hard to look serious all the time. Music really matters, no doubt about that: the people organising parties, putting so much energy into it, are so alive. But the industry side, the constant flow of hollow statements, music news without real reviews anymore… the blurred lines between club culture and its more self-destructive habits, it’s all full of contradictions. The passion is real! 

I completely understand! I think the term satire doesn’t do the feeling I’m trying to articulate justice – mainstream electronic music has become so predictable that when you see a very intentional and left-corner choice by the DJ you can’t help but laugh with them, not at them, and acknowledge the liveliness.
Okay, yeah, someone told me exactly the same thing the other day. I feel the humour, but exactly in the way you’re telling it now, and it’s actually a nice way to put it. I like it. It’s reminiscent of a certain quirkiness – playing with a certain intention to suprise your audience. 

What is your favorite project you’ve produced till now?
Hard to say. I’m really happy to see that my music doesn’t age too badly. I actually rediscover some tracks with a new perspective these days. “Gliding“, for example, with its deep techy/techno vibe – it makes so much sense. Same for “Crystal” on Pogdance.

I’ve always had a soft spot for my very first record, Cellar Door / Piste Jaune. It’s gonna be 10 years old this July! I’m super proud of how it still sounds today, I think it’s still playable (I do at least). And of course Stop The Killing – I like how versatile this project is. Echodoppler is probably one of my favourites too haha, I love the fake slow but actually super fast energy. The fact it came out in 2017, but feels so current today is kind of wild.

But,  in the end, the favourite project is always the one that you haven’t written yet, it’s what pushes you to keep going. When artists say, “this one, my new release, it’s the best one I’ve ever written,”  they’re biased – you obviously have to convince yourself that it’s the best thing. Otherwise, if you thought one of the projects  you made before was the best, it would be hard to keep going. So for me it’s always an attitude comprised of, “okay, what’s next? Where do I go?”. 

With this attitude, how has your artistic process changed throughout your 15 years in the industry?
It’s really been a journey: from making music that felt a bit painful and overthought, to something way more fun and spontaneous. In the beginning, you’re just experimenting, and that’s such a powerful creative energy. Your first release is always magical. Then you start to understand what you’re doing. You gain technique, which means you can say more but it also means you start analyzing more too. There’s this phase where you want to show your skills. I definitely went through that – trying to prove something with the music. It’s a rite of passage. The music becomes about technique for a while. Now I don’t think about technique at all, it’s just there, built in. I feel like I have less to prove. And in the studio, that shift helped me stop overthinking. I just listen to myself more. Things are way more fun now, and I’m more relaxed. I trust my instincts. That said, I’m terrified of losing my naivety. I know it’s bound to happen to some extent, but I try to find ways to hold onto it. Right now, music videos are one of those ways. That’s also why I push myself into new territory, like starting to play live shows. And funnily enough, that’s changed how I DJ too. 

In what way?
Playing live, people are really there to listen. You can create real breaks, silence, let the audience react or applaud. In a DJ set, there’s usually this constant flow and pressure to transition smoothly. But after doing live shows, I’ve started bringing those contrasts into my sets — maybe dropping 2 minutes of ambient in the middle of a peak moment, or leaving a second of silence at the end of a track. Sometimes I just chain tracks together like a selector instead of mixing everything tightly. I’m less rigid now. I’m playing more freely.

Yes I can definitely see that, and if everyone is obsessed with dancing to your tracks, what gets you moving in the club?
Tolouse Lowtrax live: that was the best dancefloor experience I’ve had in a while. So slow, so weird, and so funky at the same time. You can really feel the years of experience in his set. It’s hypnotic. If I knew that the apocalypse was about to happen in 3 hours, I would gather with my friends and have a last dance to his music. But mostly, I keep coming back to House. I’ve been listening a lot to Aaron Carl recently, but I’m also heavily inspired by DJs with a strong vision and personality: CCL, DJRUM, Gigsta, Hugo Toulotte. I’m actually really interested in live sets at the moment, because the DJ world is so dense and packed that live feels a bit more fresh at the moment. It feels alive. And sometimes you can hear mistakes, which is very precious today as technology has become so streamlined that you can’t even feel the human touch sometimes.

Amazing, I hope to dance with you as soon as possible and experience your energy! Thank you so much for this lovely conversation.
Thank you! We went really deep – it was really nice, see you soon.