“I Need to Move to Create” — Thylacine on Recording Life on the Road

photography by Cécile Chabert

For over a decade, French producer and multi-instrumentalist Thylacine has been turning his travels into music. From the Trans-Siberian Railway to Turkey, the Andes, and the Faroe Islands, each journey has become a chapter in his acclaimed ROADS series, translating landscapes, culture, and human connection into sound.

His latest project, ROADS Vol. 3, out October 31 via Intuitive Records, takes listeners to Namibia, where Thylacine spent months living and recording in a vintage 1972 Airstream caravan. “I started searching for the best conditions for me to be creative, and it turns out I need to move, change location, and have intense experiences — good or bad.” Travelling through deserts, mountains, coastal fogs, and small villages, he worked closely with local musicians, capturing traditional instruments, field recordings, and the rhythms of daily life. The album reflects both the country’s striking landscapes and its complex history, creating a record that is intimate, atmospheric, and deeply rooted in place. The latest single, ‘Shark Island’, is accompanied by a striking music video from filmmaker Cécile Chabert, who captured both the recording process and Namibia’s landscapes in an intimate, documentary-style film. You can watch the video below.

Ahead of the album’s release and an international tour, we spoke with Thylacine about life on the road, the encounters and sounds that inspired ROADS Vol. 3, and how this chapter fits into his ongoing exploration of music and travel.

Your music has taken listeners along the Trans-Siberian Railway, through Turkey, the Andes, and now Namibia. When did the idea of turning travel itself into your creative method first take shape for you?

It started out simply as an experiment. It can be frustrating to spend two weeks on a track that never gets released, and then suddenly finish a good one in a single day. So I started searching for the best conditions for me to be creative, and it turns out I need to move, change location, and have intense experiences, good or bad. So travel became evident, and the train was a good place to compose for me. That’s what led to the Transsiberian album.

Why Namibia? What was it about this country that spoke to you as the next chapter in your ROADS series?

There are a lot of criteria that brought about Namibia. After Roads Vol.1 in Argentina and Roads Vol.2 in the Faroe Islands, I wanted another continent to mark the difference, and the one I knew least was Africa, especially Southern Africa. Then I needed a safe country, with a harbour to ship the caravan, good roads, and a lot of space where I could be on my own. Namibia is also very preserved, both culturally and environmentally, so the choice became very easy as soon as we found a ship to go there.

For someone who hasn’t been to Namibia yet, how would you briefly describe the country’s landscape and culture? What would be your must-see highlights?

It’s very diverse, and a lot of places are interesting for different reasons. To be honest, I can’t even say which is my favorite place there. The Namib Desert is probably the most visually striking place I’ve been to; the Damara region and the north are culturally very rich. We had an amazing time alongside the Okavango River, even though it’s less photogenic, and the south is really fascinating. I guess it depends on what you are looking for, and I was looking for everything, ahah.

“Travel became evident, and the train was a good place to compose for me.”

You’ve spoken about giving yourself time during these travels. What role did slowing down play in the making of this record?

It is very important. Firstly, it allowed me to have very meaningful encounters for the album. After some days in one location, you can start to speak with locals, then have dinner together, and it sometimes leads to great recordings with local people. Secondly, I believe it’s really important as a creator to have moments without anything taking you out of your creative process, and to have time to experiment, make mistakes, and try new things.

You recorded the album while travelling in a 1972 Airstream caravan. How did the possibilities and limitations of that space end up shaping the sound of the album?

The best thing is I’m always happy to work there, because every day is different and you can’t get bored of it. The limitations are that there is no AC, and sometimes my workday had to stop between 2 pm and 6 pm. I also had to do more maintenance than in a normal studio because of the vibrations on the roads. Overall, I would say that I’m very exposed to the environment, which can be good and bad, but in both ways it’s exactly what I was looking for.

You collaborated closely with the Himba, Mafwe, and Nama groups on this record. What was the most inspiring exchange you had with local musicians during your stay?

With the Himba people, it was clearly the collaboration with the biggest cultural gap that I’ve ever experienced. It was very inspiring and amazing to also make them listen to the beginning of tracks I’ve made with them, like in any other collaboration.

While collecting field recordings in Namibia, was there a moment when an unexpected sound revealed itself and became part of the album?

I recorded hyena calls at night without knowing what it was. I couldn’t see them, and it took me some time to search and find out what it was. I still haven’t really seen one, but it’s in the introduction of Goodnight.

“Namibia changed my daily work routine, my relationship with social networks, and social life in general. It helped me take a step back and see my life and the world more clearly.”

Shark Island is one of the most powerful moments on the album, telling the tragic colonial history of the Herero and Nama genocide. How did you first learn about this story, and what was it like translating it into music while staying respectful to the people and history behind it?

I only learned about this terrible history while preparing my trip, which was very disturbing, realising I had never heard about it before. In Namibia, my partner Cécile Chabert did a lot of research on the subject and ended up meeting and recording different politicians and activists. We also read different books about it, so it became an important part of the trip. Again, the time to meet different people and ask them how we could do it helped us very much to do it the right way.

The video for Shark Island, filmed by Cécile Chabert, feels almost like a documentary. How important was it for you to visually capture not just the music, but also the history and the process behind it?

It’s what I love about this music video. I wanted to show the process of recording that track, as well as the locations and inspirations that led to it. The editor Zoe Sassier, with whom I have worked for many years, did incredible work on this one.

How did your time in Namibia shape your perspective on yourself, your work, and the world?

I think it’s still early for me to realize what changed, but it already changed my daily work routine, my relationship with social networks, and social life in general. It really helped me take a step back and better see my life and the world I live in.