First time reissue of this French cold-wave / minimal-synth treasure.
November 1981 – In the heart of autumn, we set off in two cars along the Nationale 1 (!) to reach Choisy-le-Roi, where a 16-track studio was waiting for us—a place where, over the course of a weekend, we would finally be able to carve our own grooves into vinyl. We were quite nervous, as Guerre Froide had already been around for a year and a half. Our elders in Kas Product had already released two EPs—one with four tracks, the other with three—in 1980, even though they’d started only a few months before us. Admittedly, there wasn’t really a sense of urgency—some of us came from the punk movement, where the prevailing mood was still very much No Future, even if we’d long since stopped believing in it... And yet others had truly lost everything, like those from the generation before us. The reasons, ironically, were often the same: heroin and/or love—hard drugs, in both cases.
Speaking of which, I had a terrible stomach ache—due to nerves or some form of tension—which forced us to make a pit stop in the Oise region so I could rush to the toilet of a local café. That same stomach discomfort would hit me again once we arrived at the studio—whose name, incidentally, I’ve since forgotten...
We had gotten there thanks to the generous initiative of a friend, Sylvain S., known as “Perlin” (what a phonetic coincidence!?), who had specifically created the Stechak Products label to produce our record. Stechak because it was consistent with his earlier association called Tchernoziom, and Products as a plural tribute to the trailblazers from Nancy.
Guerre Froide originally consisted of four members: Fabrice Fruchart on guitar-synth (Korg MS-20), Patrick Mallet on bass, and Gilbert Deffais, known as “Bébert”, on Korg drum machine. At the time, I was already singing in a rock/post-punk band called Stress, and that’s how Guerre Froide picked up the bad habit of rehearsing in the same basement in Amiens as Stress. Within a month or two, we had half a dozen songs. We then had the opportunity to record a 4-track demo with a friend from Radio France Picardie, and to perform in October at a festival held at the Amiens municipal circus. Then came the now-legendary concert on November 11 at B.J.’s Club. After that, we self-produced and released 50 completely DIY copies of a cassette titled Cicatrice. A few concerts later—after Jean-Michel Bailleux had joined us on bass and Patrick had switched to guitar, which felt more natural to him—and with more concrete plans starting to take shape, we had to find a new rehearsal space and start renting a room.
Then came the moment when Fabrice told us he was leaving to go study in Lille... After the June 19, 1981 concert, which was naturally dubbed “Farewell to 2F,” Marie-José, Bébert’s wife, offered to take over on synth.
That’s when Perlin, who was a close friend of the Deffais couple and a great fan of our music, offered to fully finance the production of a 4-track 12-inch EP—covering the studio time, mastering, pressing, and artwork. What up-and-coming band would have turned that down? An improvised contract was signed with each member of Guerre Froide. The first step was choosing which four songs we would record. Berlin 81 was an obvious pick, having already become the group’s flagship track. We wanted to avoid reusing songs from Cicatrice, so the focus shifted to new material—some written before, some after Fabrice’s departure. Ersatz, for example, was his composition, but Mauve and Peine Perdue, which were also selected, were both written by Patrick.
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