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1997 · 30 · Criticism + listening

Crispy Bacon

Improbable techno hit of 1997, named on a cassette box in five seconds, video by Quentin Dupieux. Jeff Mills will find the title stupid; Garnier will keep it.

The device

Single released February 1997 on F Communications (label founded by Garnier and Éric Morand), included on the album 30 published 30 March of the same year. Production: Garnier alone, in home studio. Vinyl 12” format (parts 1 and 2). The official video is directed by Quentin Dupieux — young filmmaker-musician not yet Mr. Oizo (Flat Beat arrives in 1999), nor the director of Rubber or Le Daim. At the time (1997), Dupieux is 22 and making his first music videos. His Crispy Bacon video is in low-budget CGI, “late-90s PC club” aesthetic — dates the song as much as it illustrates it.

Structure — the simple machine

Crispy Bacon is deliberately minimalist. Garnier has often described it as “a basic dance thing I’d had in my head for a long time”. This minimalism is the project: looking dumb, working anyway.

  • Intro (0:00–1:00): 4/4 kick + 16th hi-hat + entrancing synth bass line.
  • First plateau (1:00–3:00): added pitched vocal sample repeating something incomprehensible (“crispy bacon” repeated but treated), percussion layers.
  • Break (3:00–3:45): kick removed, bass alone + vocal sample, restart.
  • Second plateau (3:45–6:30): everything together, intensity rise, kick reinforced.
  • Short outro.

No classical-sense harmony — a few bass notes, that’s it. The track’s strength lies in its insistence: the same loop working for 6 minutes because the pocket is right.

The procedure — the name anecdote

The funniest anecdote in the Garnier catalog, told multiple times in interview (notably 909originals, Medium):

Garnier ends the session, listens to the loop running. To rest his ears, he goes for a walk. When he returns, he must name the track for the work cassette. Garnier says he had, on listening, the image of a slice of bacon frying in boiling oil. He writes “Crispy Bacon” on the cassette box. A five-second decision.

A few days later, Jeff Mills (Detroit techno luminary) drops by the studio. He listens to the track and agrees to do a remix. But he hates the title:

“What the hell is Crispy Bacon? Where did you find such a stupid name?”

Garnier explains his image of frying bacon. Mills, deadpan:

“Then you should have named it Sizzling Bacon. Crispy means it’s already cooked.”

Garnier keeps “Crispy” out of stubbornness — and the track becomes a European hit, played to open sets for two decades. Mills will be right culinarily, wrong musically. Garnier declares in April 1997, as the track explodes: “The hype around Crispy Bacon makes me laugh. I love the track but I don’t think it’s the best I’ve done.”

The arrangement

Tempo: ~135 BPM (standard techno). Key: modal, around A minor (bass mainly on a held note with short arpeggio) [TO VERIFY]. Powerful compressed 4/4 kick (probably TR-909 sample). 16th hi-hat alternating open and closed. Synth bassline (probably Roland TB-303 or clone, slightly saturated — revisited acid house sound). Treated vocal sample (pitch-shift and band-pass filter).

Mix: compressed without excess, kick powerful but legible, moderate stereo. No loudness-war mastering (1997 is not yet the era of -6 LUFS). The track breathes in club AND on home stereo.

Lineage and resonances

Upstream: second-generation Detroit techno (Jeff Mills himself, Robert Hood, Carl Craig for minimalism), Chicago acid house (Phuture Acid Tracks 1987), emerging French Touch (Daft Punk Da Funk 1995). Garnier synthesises these traditions without claiming any frontally.

Downstream: Crispy Bacon becomes the European cerebral techno opening standard of late 90s / early 2000s. All cerebral techno DJs have a version in their set. The track crosses the club barrier into radio — rare for a minimalist instrumental techno. Mr. Oizo’s Flat Beat (1999), made by the video director, can be read as the direct child of Crispy Bacon: same minimalism, same pitched vocal hooks, same low-budget visual humour. Quentin Dupieux learned, working for Garnier, what he would apply two years later to his own hit.

Reading under the permanences

Permanence 1 — Album as continuous set: less strong than with The Man with the Red Face, but present. Crispy Bacon on the album 30 is followed by The Hoe and other club tracks. The DJ-sequencing logic holds the album. The track, although extracted as a single, functions first in transition within a sequence of similar tracks.

Permanence 2 — Eclecticism as signature: counter-intuitive here, because Crispy Bacon is less eclectic than other Garnier tracks. Pure minimalist techno. But eclecticism applies to the entire body of work, not each track. 30 also contains jazz, drum’n’bass, ambient. The fact that Garnier can make Crispy Bacon AND Greed AND The Man with the Red Face on the same record is the signature. Crispy Bacon is the strict-techno angle of this fan.

Why this track and not another: Crispy Bacon is the track that proves a minimalist, assumed-dumb techno cut can cross over to radio in France. An industrial event as much as musical. Before 1997, French techno stays in clubs. After Crispy Bacon, it can travel. Daft Punk will the following year make Da Funk a mainstream single; but Garnier opens the passage. And he opens it with a track whose title comes from a cassette box scribbled during a walk-pause.

Critique + listening — anecdote source: Garnier interviews 909originals, Medium 12edit. Precise key and exact machines to confirm.