Hello everyone. Today we’re here with Yann Le Baraillec! Nice to meet you. How are you doing?
Hello, I’m doing very well. Nice to meet you too.


So, Motocultor is a festival that has existed since 2007. It started with only 200 people. It’s incredible to think about that : 200 people back then versus 62,500 last year. It’s amazing, such an incredible growth. How do you experience that? How does it feel to say, today, “we have 62,500 people”? There’s obviously a huge journey behind it, almost 20 years, but still, how do you process that?
Last year, I really enjoyed watching the Machine Head concert, with the two main stages side by side, with a massive crowd in front. And I thought, wow, this is a beautiful evolution. I kind of enjoyed the show, but I was mostly watching the crowd and the band, and I was like… yeah. I don’t really have the words. I still struggle to take a step back from it.


So still as much happiness, as much enjoyment?
Oh yes, there’s still a lot of motivation, lots of ideas, and plenty of room to grow. It’s amazing.


Where did your passion for rock and metal come from, and how did the idea for Motocultor start?
At first, when I was a teenager, I learned to play guitar. I had an aunt who was a musician and gave accordion lessons, and my cousin had started playing drums. It made me want to play an instrument so I could play with him. I was more into rock, so I thought, “I’ll play guitar to jam with him.” At first, I wanted to play drums, but I figured we wouldn’t be able to play together if we both played drums. So I tried guitar, and I liked it.

Later, during my teenage years, we tried to start some original bands, but it didn’t really work out, so I stopped. My cousin, on the other hand, got into metal. Since he’s my cousin, I used to go see him rehearse every weekend when I was around 18 and he had formed a metal band. They didn’t have a singer yet, but I went to watch them rehearse, and that’s how I discovered a lot of bands through them, especially the band Synopsys. They were covering bands like Metallica, Pantera, Devin Townsend, Iron Maiden, Megadeth, Dream Theater… a lot of different things.

So I discovered all these bands through them. Sometimes, at parties, I’d hear the original songs and think, “Oh, so that’s what it is!” I didn’t know them at all before. I actually discovered all of this through live performances, by watching people play those songs really well.

Then they found a singer, and that’s when it really clicked for me. It made me want to play music again. I was more into rock at first, but after spending about three years in that environment, surrounded by people listening to metal and going to rehearsals, it really pulled me in. I found musicians: the singer was the brother of Synopsys’ singer, the bassist was the neighbor of their guitarist… and I asked my cousin if we could start a band together. He was already in one, but I told him, “You can handle two.” So we started a second band.

It was more rock-influenced metal, or progressive rock-metal. I’m not exactly sure how to define it. And that’s how I really got into metal. For example, Devin Townsend was one of the artists they listened to a lot. The singer from Synopsys, who later became the singer of my band, was really into him. At first, I didn’t really get it, but I liked certain aspects of it, especially the bass sounds.


Especially since Devin Townsend has multiple projects and different bands.
At the time, I was mostly trying to listen to his solo albums, but I didn’t really connect with them at first. When I was a teenager, I was really into Rage Against the Machine or the album One Hot Minute by Red Hot Chili Peppers, which had a bit of a metal edge with a strong slap bass.

For years, I loved anything with slap bass, really punchy bass lines. So I didn’t understand. My friends were listening to metal like Metallica or Devin Townsend, where the bass is more subtle, more embedded in the mix… and I was thinking, “But the bass sounds weak!” I just didn’t get why they liked it.

At some point, I started listening to Devin Townsend on repeat while studying for my exams. I kept playing it over and over, and I don’t know why, but at some point, something clicked. I got into the whole Devin Townsend vibe. That’s when I started to understand.

For Metallica, it took me even longer. I liked it when my friends played their songs, but I didn’t really enjoy listening to the albums. Like Enter Sandman, I could try to play it on guitar, but I wouldn’t necessarily listen to the full record. In 2003, I went to see Metallica in Paris, I don’t remember if it was at Bercy, with Godsmack opening. I think it might have been their only show in France, I’m not sure. But it was incredible.

Within the first ten seconds, I got it. I completely forgot about Godsmack, even though they were great too. That’s when I understood the energy of metal. And after that, when I listened to Metallica again, I really enjoyed it. I needed to see it live to understand it. It took me time.


That’s often the case. It really sums up metal quite well : live shows are where you truly discover bands and fall in love with them.
When I was younger, between the ages of 10 and 14, I listened to a bit of everything, even dance compilations like Hit 17, I remember. I mostly listened to Europe, I liked AC/DC, Bon Jovi, Deep Purple -all those classic bands- and Queen. I think that’s what I listened to the most when I was young.


There’s a real rise of metal right now, especially in France. How would you define that? It really feels like a growing wave.
It is growing, that’s true. There are more and more festivals, it’s really booming. You now have metal festivals all over France, which is great.  There are also more bands, and some of them are starting to break through. There’s a bit of renewal, but it could go even further. To really take it to the next level, though, metal would need more visibility on TV. We’re not there yet. France, culturally, isn’t as rooted in rock, and even less in metal.

In the United States, for example, you have rap, pop, metal ; it’s much more open. In English-speaking countries in general, there’s more diversity. In France, it’s still mostly French chanson, rap, and maybe techno for younger audiences. But metal is still harder to break through. And the renewal from younger generations isn’t strong enough yet. There’s work to be done.  But if metal were more present on TV or radio, there would definitely be an even bigger rise.


Motocultor really tries to highlight French bands. From what I saw, last year there were around thirty French bands out of the 110 on the lineup. Why is it so important for you to showcase them? For example, last year there was Landmvrks, who were really rising. This year, there’s Ashen and many others. Why that commitment?
The idea is quite simple: there is a French metal scene, so it’s normal for us to support it. Then there are also bands from Brittany, emerging bands. We’re a Breton festival, so if we don’t support local bands, that wouldn’t make sense. I think that’s part of a festival’s role, especially when you’re the main metal festival in Brittany.

So for them, it’s a great showcase, a real opportunity to gain visibility by playing Motocultor. We’re happy to book bands directly now. We’ve stopped doing band contests ; it’s good in theory, but very time-consuming, and often it’s the same bands applying. And sometimes, the best bands don’t even apply anymore.

So now we book directly based on word of mouth or bands we’ve had the chance to see live. The problem is, there isn’t enough room for all the bands we’d like to book. So we still focus quite a lot on Brittany and the Pays de la Loire region, and then occasionally bring in others. But obviously, the further away the bands are, the harder it is, because we don’t get to see them as often. So it mostly relies on word of mouth. And if there isn't a strong buzz, it becomes more difficult.

We also have Breton artists who are more rooted in traditional culture. We’re lucky to be in a region with a strong cultural identity, so from time to time, when it makes sense, we include that as well. For example, this year we’re doing Celkilt x Bagad Ar Meilhoù Glaz Quimper. That’s the kind of project you could see at the Festival Interceltique de Lorient, but we also bring it to Motocultor and they actually find it more fun to play it here. It’s complementary. There’s a real coherence in programming them here too, even if it could exist in other types of festivals.

There’s also Brieg Guerveno. That makes for a full Breton-focused day on Thursday with three artists. And there’s a fourth Breton act that day: Moundrag and Komodor, who merge into a joint project called Komodrag & The Moundodor. We had already booked them separately in 2023 and 2024, and now, two years later, we’re bringing them together. And I think it’s going to be pretty wild.

It’s very 60s-inspired. These are bands from the same city with similar influences but different setups: one is more classic guitar / bass / drums, the other is drums and organ. And when they perform together as a “super band,” it creates something really special.


That’s great. There’s clearly a real impact in working locally like that. You can see the strength of local dynamics, and you’re really trying to maintain and highlight that. I imagine there’s also a strong economic impact, especially in terms of tourism for the city. In the end, everyone benefits from it.
Oh yes, absolutely. At the city hall of Carhaix-Plouguer, they’re very happy to have welcomed a second festival. There’s already the Vieilles Charrues, which is a legendary event. And we come in with a different style, something more complementary.

Also, the people currently leading the city council are actually the founders. The mayor is one of the co-founders of the Vieilles Charrues festival. So a lot of people in their team were already involved in festival organization, especially in the early 2000s.

So they really understand what it means to host events like this. There’s a strong festival culture in Carhaix, in the local community, across the territory. And you can feel it even more broadly across the Finistère region. Before, we were based in Morbihan. And honestly, I didn’t fully realize the difference. It was great there too, that’s where I live, and there are events, it’s a good place. But when people told me Finistère was a “land of festivals,” I thought it was the same as Morbihan. Now that we’ve moved, I truly understand the difference.

There’s a completely different mindset. Local businesses are much more willing to partner with the festival. There are also more locals volunteering, even though there are already tons of festivals happening every weekend. In Morbihan, it’s not the same. There’s less demand, less of that culture. And I didn’t realize it because I’ve lived there my whole life, from age 9 until now. In the end, Morbihan is a place where festivals exist and it’s nice but Finistère is something else entirely.


You mentioned the local demand in Carhaix-Plouguer. Last year, there were also invitations and special arrangements for local residents. Will that still be the case this year?
Since we started doing outdoor editions, back in 2010, we’ve always invited local residents. We create noise, so it feels like the least we can do to let them come and enjoy the festival with us. Or at least offer some form of compensation whether they choose to attend or spend that time elsewhere. It’s a compromise: we generate noise for four days, so it seems only fair. We’ve always done it that way since 2010.

Now, it’s true that the Vieilles Charrues didn’t do that. I didn’t even know they didn’t. So when we arrived in Carhaix, for us, it was obvious, almost just a formality. At some point, we mentioned it alongside other information, and it ended up making headlines: “invitations for local residents.” And then someone said to me, “Do you realize this could be an issue?” I was quite surprised. It ended up creating a comparison with the Vieilles Charrues, who don’t offer that. But their audience is much broader and more general. Their attendees are people who might buy tickets anyway.

Whereas for us, there’s also the fact that local residents wouldn’t necessarily come, even without the noise, because they don’t necessarily listen to metal. So I understand their situation. But they’ve never done it, while we’ve always worked that way. And in 2023, it became a bigger topic, without us anticipating that it could make things a bit uncomfortable for them.


During last year’s closing conference, there was discussion about improving camping conditions. Have those changes been implemented?
Yes, we’ve worked on that this year. The camping area was a bit too crowded, people were quite packed in. At the same time, the concert site itself was also a bit tight around the two main stages. So we made a decision: the camping area that overlooked the outdoor stages last year is being moved elsewhere. This will free up space on the concert site, giving more depth in front of the stages and improving overall comfort for the audience. It will really open up that part of the site.

On the camping side, we’ve added an extension, which means more space for festival-goers. They won’t be as cramped, which is an important improvement. Another issue is audience renewal. There isn’t enough of it, unfortunately. We’re trying, there is probably some renewal, but not enough for now. I hope new bands will emerge and bring in a younger audience.

The median age has increased significantly. The first time we studied it, in 2017, it was 29. Today, it’s 36. The audience is getting older, and it’s not renewing fast enough. Ideally, I’d like us to stay around 29, because that would mean there’s constant renewal. But that’s not the case right now.

So to adapt, we’re also introducing a more comfortable camping option, with tipis. It’s about adjusting to an older audience. Sleeping in tents can get uncomfortable ; one night is fine, but four days is different. With tipis, it’s a bit more comfortable. We’re testing it, and it’s working well so far. We’re also lucky to be based in Carhaix-Plouguer, which has hosted the Vieilles Charrues since the late 1990s. There’s a strong culture of welcoming festival-goers.

Naturally, locals offer accommodation in their homes. It came together quite easily ; we received calls from the city hall and the tourist office to help organize it. For them, it’s obvious. There’s a system where people can sign up, and they’re happy to host. It also provides them with extra income. And for festival-goers, it’s not far from the site, so it’s a great alternative. Staying with locals is actually a really nice option.


Let’s talk about that move, because you’re now based in Carhaix-Plouguer, but it wasn’t always the case. In 2009, there was an issue that led to a cancellation or a lighter version of the festival. Wasn’t it related to a band controversy?
No, not at all. It wasn’t a band reputation issue ; that’s just a bogus excuse.
In 2009, we were supposed to organize the festival at the same indoor venue as the 2007–2008 editions. We had already held several meetings with the local authorities. The plan was to repeat the original format before evolving the festival further.

We had a first meeting well in advance, then a second one in April, just a few months before the event. At that time, we were talking about a few hundred attendees over one or two nights.

At the end of that meeting, the deputy for culture from the town of Saint-Avé told me, just as we were leaving, that it wouldn’t be possible after all because of construction work that would last one or two years. The problem was, we had already been working on that edition for five months. We didn’t want to cancel. We could have postponed to 2010, but we already had the lineup and much of the project ready. So we decided to look for another solution.

We explored nearby towns. There was one that already hosted an outdoor festival in May. We thought it could be a temporary solution and also an opportunity to test an outdoor format, even though we originally wanted to wait before doing that.

Our long-term goal was to move to Kerboulard in Saint-Nolff, but this was more of a backup plan. This town already had the infrastructure and experience with festivals, so we thought it might be easier to get approval. Before contacting the town hall, I spoke with the president of the local association organizing the existing festival, to avoid any conflict. He told me there was no issue.

Then I approached the town hall. In reality, he thought it wouldn’t be a problem because he assumed the town would refuse anyway. But they actually accepted. The deputy for culture had been a music instructor when I was in high school, so we already knew each other. A few days later, during a municipal meeting, they voted yes. Within a few days, everything was approved. They told us: “We agree for this year, to help you out, but we can’t guarantee it for future editions.”

However, some members of the local festival association were also municipal officials, and they weren’t present during the vote. Afterwards, they tried multiple times to block the project. They made a final attempt just before summer, during a council meeting, by raising concerns about the band Hanzel und Gretyl, claiming it was a Nazi band because of imagery featuring a Prussian helmet.

But that wasn’t the case at all. It was just a Prussian helmet. Industrial music often uses military aesthetics, it’s not necessarily political. They had taken a clip out of context, probably from a forum discussion questioning whether the band was Nazi. It wasn’t even the singers in the video, but the drummer. In reality, it’s a New York band that uses German lyrics, often with absurd or exaggerated themes, like Nazis in space but without any political message. It was just industrial music with a certain aesthetic, nothing serious behind it.

So, as I was saying, the festival started in 2007.
If you could talk to your 2007 self today, what would you say? Would you give yourself advice, like “hang in there, it’s going to work”?
I wouldn’t say anything.
(laughs)

No, really, I wouldn’t say anything. If he already feels like he’s struggling, it might discourage him. Back then, everyone was telling me not to do the festival. My parents, my friends… everyone was saying I should stop, that it was too difficult. The first outdoor editions, especially in 2008, were really tough. At some point, though, my friends and family realized I wasn’t going to stop. So they changed their approach: instead of telling me to quit, they started helping and supporting me.

So if I told my 2007 self that it’s going to be hard, it might discourage him. And if I told him it’s going to work, maybe he wouldn’t do things the same way. So I’d rather not say anything at all.


So next year will mark the 20th anniversary of the Motocultor. Are you planning anything special for that edition?
I’d like to do something, maybe a tribute to explain how the festival was built. But I don’t know yet if it’s realistic, or if what I have in mind is actually doable. We’ll see.


The festival itself didn’t seem very “realistic” 20 years ago… and yet!
Yes, but now it’s not really about whether it’s possible. It’s more about whether people would actually be interested. How do we tell that story, how do we present it? It has to be engaging for the audience too. So we’ll see.


We can’t wait to see that. Thank you so much for your time today, and we’ll see you at Motocultor!
Thank you very much.