The French band La Femme has been perfecting their brand of pastiche for well over a decade now. In that time, they have worked in a variety of genres (cold wave, punk, yéyé, psych), all done with a decidedly Francophone flair. Their recently released album, Rock Machine, steps on the gas a bit, and throws their music into something approaching full-on rock territory. Of course, it’s done with a bit of a wink, and plenty of good hooks. We wanted to know more about the record, so we sent over some questions to the band. Sacha Got and Marlon Magnée’s responses—as well as a great list of French rock and roll songs to check out—are below. 

Where does the title Rock Machine come from?

Sacha Got and Marlon Magnée: “Rock Machine” is like a mantra. We wanted something that feels alive, mechanical, but also rebellious—like an engine of energy. It’s a bit of an ironic nod too because the record plays with the tropes of rock but doesn’t fully submit to them. It’s not pure rock; it’s La Femme’s version of it. Think of it as a robot with a leather jacket.

This is your first English-language album. What prompted the switch?

We just started a new series with lots of different themes: Spanish, Hawaii, and now English. We used to live in America for a while, and over the years, we wrote 40 songs in English since we first came in 2010. So, we wanted to gather them all in one record. Plus, it’s funny to imagine what La Femme would be like if it were an English-American band.

There are some real fist-pumping rock tropes scattered around this new record. What is your relationship with big rock music?

We’ve always been into rock and roll, from the beginning—surf, psych, punk—it’s all in our DNA. But with this record, we leaned into those classic rock moments. It’s fun! There’s something cathartic about big choruses and riffs. Rock music has a certain spirit that doesn’t take itself too seriously and very seriously at the same time, and that energy suits us well.

Your band has worked in a lot of different stylistic modes. Is there anything that ties it all together? How does Rock Machine make sense within your larger discography?

It’s all about freedom and playfulness. Whether we’re dabbling in electro, psych, or chanson française, we’re always trying to create worlds that feel surreal and unpredictable. Rock Machine fits into the La Femme universe because it keeps that spirit of experimentation alive. It’s another chapter in our story—just with more guitar solos and synths, but also calm ballads.

How important is your live show? Did Rock Machine get written with performance in mind?

Absolutely. The live show is everything. We wrote these songs to blow the roof off venues—there are tracks on this album that beg to be played loud, with people jumping. We imagined a crowd when we were recording, picturing that release you feel when you’re at a wild gig (like “Clover Paradise” or “I Believe in Rock 'n' Roll”).

What is your relationship with French rock music?

French rock is like an underdog—it’s always been a little strange, a little offbeat. Bands like Téléphone or Léo Ferré with his darker stuff—they did something unique. French rock never tried to imitate, and that’s what makes it cool. We love being part of that legacy in our own way, by pushing the boundaries even more.

What is your favorite French rock album of all time?

It’s hard to choose, but here are some songs: “Ça plane pour moi” by Plastic Bertrand; “J’ai la fièvre” by Marc Charlan; “Quelque chose en toi” by Téléphone; “Haine Haine Haine” by La Souris Déglinguée; “Eddy Jones” by La Souris Déglinguée; “Décide-toi” by Bijou; “Mon amour est trop grand” by Les Vautours; “Panik” by Métal Urbain; and “Rebop” by Marie et les Garçons.

You have a song on the record called "I Believe In Rock And Roll." Why do you still think rock matters?

Because rock isn’t just a sound—it’s an attitude. It’s about saying “no” when everyone else says “yes.” It’s messy, fun, and wild. In a world that feels increasingly polished and sanitized, rock is still a space where chaos is welcome—and people need that, now more than ever.

Photo by Sam Quealy