Daniel Mille indispensável:

Mille was born in October 1958, under the sign of a ternary Libra: his mother was a dancer, his father a drummer, and the surroundings were in Grenoble. He waited eleven years before turning to the accordion and two years later he dropped everything; carting around the image of the Tour de France caravan in the playground at school wasn’t for him…

Of course, it was love at first sight that gave him itchy fingers again, after a Claude Nougaro concert with Richard Galliano: the revelation of a reachable Utopia, where invention was possible again, a simple squeeze away. A friendship was born, and with it, loyalty. Daniel Mille moved to Paris in 1985, earning some cash in the subway corridors, and he returned to Grenoble from time to time. Richard Galliano made him an offer: would he play with him at a concert given by singer Barbara? Nothing was the same after that… “I was behind the curtains, but the feeling of the stage, the tension in the audience and the presence of Barbara cut to the bone… It was right then, immediately, that I knew I’d never look back. No more return-tickets.” In 1990 Daniel studied jazz at the CIM School, but “there, at the time, with my accordion, I was a Martian.”

In 1993 came another milestone. Back in Paris, Pierre Barouh called Galliano to ask him how he could contact the little guy he’d liked so much. He wanted to make a record with him! “When we went into the studio, I had no idea what we were going to record…” Yet right from the start, Sur les quais made an impression with its brimming sensuality. The cast of musicians was a sign of things to come: Jean-Christophe Maillard (an inseparable companion), Laurent de Wilde, Sylvain Luc, Richard Bona… the radio stations loved it. Two years later came recognition: Les heures tranquilles received the Best Hope Django Award. Then came Le Funambule in 1999. Each time, Daniel Mille tightened the circle, and the intention.

For his fourth opus, Entre chien et loup, Daniel was crystal-clear in his mind: “I wanted to make an accordionist’s record, not an accordion album, and pay special attention to the compositions. Composing is like a second trade, to me. When people listen to one of my pieces, like those of Daniel Goyone, I like the writing to be recognised.” In that respect, Piazzola and Toninho Horta have nourished him as much as jazz or the dancehalls of the Rue de Lappe. The feeling of silence, the exactness of the musical time, is another of his aces in causing emotion to ooze from his “box of shivers”. “Sometimes virtuosity is a fig-leaf hiding the lack of emotion. I can’t allow myself virtuosity, so…” Using five notes where others are tempted to play twenty obliges you to be intense, and tell a story with simple words.

In this fourth work, Daniel Mille has opted for the quartet format, with, here and there, an additional colour: strings, piano, or clarinets and saxophone.

The eleven compositions (“Les errances d’une valse” is a single suite, sequenced in four movements) are all as many narratives. “Les Minots” is about childhood mischief, a lullaby in 5/4 where the accordion allows itself the luxury of not stating the theme; in “Aube”, it’s a working-draft that takes precedence: a trio of piano, guitar and accordina, the little brother of the accordion that reminds you of the harmonica (“And my admiration for Toots Thielemans,” adds Daniel Mille.) “Thema de Maella” is a composition by Argentinian pianist Lalo Zanelli, whom Daniel Mille heard on Paris radio six or seven years ago. Daniel’s brother Christian, who used to busk with him in Saint Tropez, but now lives in Grenoble, plays the violin. There’s no improvisation on Danse 7, just a statement of the melody: “There’s no need for it, Goyone’s tunes are so well-cut!” The “Errances d’une valse” suite, (in 11/4, just try dancing to it…) was written as a journey to the fringes of Europe. As for “Novembre”, “it was the moment when I started thinking about the album.”It’s also a moment of solitude on the accordion, an ode to silence. “It was conceived and written for solo accordion.”

For Entre chien et loup, Daniel simply let himself be carried by the light he’s so fond of every day: “It’s a moment when I feel particularly available, quite open, and I often work with the windows open.” There’s no mystery about B, the note of music, which is explored in all its harmonies. Daniel Mille uses the accordion merely as a rhythmic accompaniment, and the Jew’s harp imparts a special texture to the overall sound. For “Les Embruns” Mille was thinking about the seascape in Brittany, where the land ends… the piece was scored completely. An extremity of the land in jazz? Jean-Christophe Maillard’s composition “Cinéma” was a piece lying in a drawer; on it, Daniel plays an accordina solo that recalls his admiration for the conversations of Bill Evans and Toots Thielemans. “We felt marvellous in that melody over that pulse: Minino Garay set up a beautiful atmosphere,” says Mille. “B Interlude” comes as a counterpoint to “Les Embruns” an instant of unbridled improvisation that’s an invitation to bring the session to a conclusion while all are still present in the studio in Pernes-les-Fontaines. There’s nothing more natural than for the accordion to adopt a feel that’s more “roots”, more traditional. Letting yourself go, dancing, laughing, drinking… it’s when the daylight is Entre chien et loup, the moment in the day when night is drawing near, and opening its arms to you.

in Emarcy