“What I miss about that music from the past—and even more so today, in the age of AI where more and more music is created by robots—is, first and foremost, the human element. It was music made by real people. That implies a dynamic quality and a vitality that a robot simply cannot achieve. The mood during a recording session, imperceptible little errors: all of that gives it life.”

Lucky Pepper: The Blues Had a Baby and They Named It Rock and Roll

Geoffrey Lucky Pepper is a French musician, singer, songwriter, and producer, widely recognized as the charismatic leader and frontman of the explosive retro-rock 'n' roll band Lucky Pepper. Based in France, he has carved out a unique space in the contemporary European alternative music scene by passionately reviving and reinventing the raw American sound of the late '50s and early '60s. His musical identity is a powerful blend of authentic Mississippi blues, gritty Louisiana rock 'n' roll, rockabilly, and garage surf, drawing inspiration from both rhythm & blues pioneers and the wildest garage bands of the mid-20th century. What sets Geoffrey apart is not just his exceptional guitar skills or his distinctive vocals, but his complete visual and theatrical approach to his art. The band's live performances are legendary for their high-octane energy and showmanship, all set within a vintage universe heavily inspired by classic American comic books. Beyond his work on stage, Geoffrey is a multi-talented creator who maintains total artistic control over his projects; he operates his own audiovisual production house, Ducky Duck Studio, where he personally directs, edits, and produces the band's cinematic and stylish music videos.

(Photo: Geoffrey Lucky Pepper)

Following the widespread success of their high-energy vocal album Easier Said Than Done!, Geoffrey took an unexpected but mature artistic turn. This culminated in his new album titled Cooking Without Singing, which was released on vinyl in early 2026. This latest record marks a major milestone in his career as it is an entirely instrumental work. Stripped of any lyrics, the album allows Geoffrey's guitar to take center stage and do the storytelling, creating a cinematic rock 'n' roll landscape that highlights the complexity of his compositions and proves that authentic rock 'n' roll energy remains deeply captivating based solely on the power of musical arrangement.

Interview by Michael Limnios

How has the music and Rock n’ Roll culture influenced your views of the world? What do you miss most nowadays from the music of the past?

What resonates most with me about rock 'n' roll culture is the raw energy and sound of the music—that uncompromising, "in-your-face" attitude. It’s the sense of urgency and carefree teenage spirit, the feeling that anything is possible, along with the rebellious nature that has always defined rock 'n' roll. After all, "rock 'n' roll" is also a state of mind : a free spirit that don't care convention. I also love the fact that this music sits at the crossroads of blues and country in all their forms—genres that themselves stem from influences rooted in other European or African sounds. It’s very interesting.

What I miss about that music from the past—and even more so today, in the age of AI where more and more music is created by robots—is, first and foremost, the human element. It was music made by real people. That implies a dynamic quality and a vitality that a robot simply cannot achieve. The mood during a recording session, imperceptible little errors: all of that gives it life.

Secondly, back then, there were also technical and material constraints: barely a few microphones for an entire band, limited tracks on recording systems, and expensive tape—meaning you couldn't just keep re-recording the same song until you were satisfied. You had to make choices and compromises, prioritizing certain elements over others; you had to think about the sound before even starting to record and make deliberate artistic decisions. It meant arriving at the studio fully prepared. It meant accepting a take that captured incredible atmosphere and groove, even if it contained a few wrong notes. That entire way of working and approaching music is what contributes to the sound of that era—and to the human, living quality of the music itself. Bands made do with whatever equipment they had available, which resulted in a wide variety of different productions. And people were less afraid to experiment with their sound.

These days, everything is standardized, and everything sounds the same. It's a kind of boring.  Everyone uses the same software, hardware, and plug-ins because "that’s what you’re supposed to use" or "that’s how it’s done." Everything sounds clean and polished. Since it is always possible to undo and edit things. Everything is perfect because everything can be reworked on the computer. When I record, I’m not stuck in the past; I use modern technology because it’s practical. However, I try to work by deliberately imposing constraints on myself to recreate the conditions of that era—using few microphones, a maximum of three takes, and no more than ten tracks. At the same time, I try to keep in mind that there are no rules in art, so if I like something unconventional, I keep it.

“I’m a huge comic book fan and collector—mainly of vintage comics—because of their colors and old-school artwork. The idea came up when I needed the artwork for my first album. I wanted something different from the classic blues or rock 'n' roll visuals—you know, pin-ups, Jack Daniel's, vintage cars, overalls, bayous, and front porches.” (Geoffrey Lucky Pepper / Photo by Yannick Enjalbert)

Your sound blends Louisiana blues with garage rock. How did you manage to marry the traditional swamp sound of the American South with the raw energy of garage?

I don't know if I've succeeded! But I know I've always wanted to create a sound that is uniquely my own. That’s what I work on the most: trying to build an identifiable, recognizable artistic universe that speaks to me, and makes people say: "That’s the Lucky Pepper sound". Musically, my roots are in the blues. And the kind of blues that speaks to me most is from the American South—Mississippi and, above all, Louisiana—because there’s often a "pop" element to it; they are songs with melodies. This gives things a catchy and sunny feel that speak to people and corespond to me. For my owns songs, I draw from the musical influences I love without overthinking it: rhythm and blues, rock 'n' roll, Cajun, zydeco, country, rockabilly, soul, surf music, swamp pop, swamp blues, hill country blues, even sometimes punk, and so on.

On top of that, I try to smooth it all out with a consistent sonic thread so it doesn't go off in too many different directions. And for that raw "garage" sound, I think it comes more from my way of playing and way of being: high voltage! In any case, I often enjoy finding "bridges" between musical styles or different bands.

Take Buddy Holly, for instance (a favorite of mine): if you crank up the tempo and add distorted guitars, it turns into the Ramones! And, to me some of Buddy Holly's songs aren't so far from the songwriting style of certain Louisiana music, in terms of that "pop song" feel. So yes, I’m trying to blend my three ingredients—garage rock 'n' roll energy, an "old-school" sound, and Louisiana songs—and see what comes of it.  

The band has a very strong retro aesthetic reminiscent of vintage comic books. How did this idea come about, and how does the world of comics connect with your music?

I’m a huge comic book fan and collector—mainly of vintage comics—because of their colors and old-school artwork. The idea came up when I needed the artwork for my first album. I wanted something different from the classic blues or rock 'n' roll visuals—you know, pin-ups, Jack Daniel's, vintage cars, overalls, bayous, and front porches. Comic book art suits me, and it’s a style I know well. I also find it visually effective because it’s colorful and highly dynamic; that energy resonates with my personality and my music. Plus, even though comic books have been around for a long time, they’re part of the collective consciousness and speak to everyone.

"Lucky Pepper" was originally my stage name. I now view it more like a comic book character, where each album represents a new episode in a comic book series. What’s really cool is that once you have a character, you can dream up all kinds of stories, episodes, and spin-offs for them. It’s really fun. And I think music—and art in general—should be fun. People can feel that. Once again, I’m imagining bridges between things : here music and comics; I find that music can sometimes be very "visual," and comics very "musical."

“Why is it important to we preserve and spread the blues? Because the blues is a popular music that speaks to everyone. It’s a music based on sharing. And I’ve never met anyone who told me, "I don’t like the blues."” (Geoffrey Lucky Pepper / Photo by Yannick Enjalbert)

You are known for your explosive energy on stage. What is it that you feel unlocks inside you when you are in front of an audience?

Performing live is the ultimate goal. It’s what fuels me and it's an adrenaline shot! For me the show is all about partying with the crowd and celebrate life. Having fun with them, and them with me. During the show, nothing else matters but the present moment, when you have to give it all. It’s also a way to release any pent-up energy—whether good or bad. By the end, you’re tired, but you feel light and happy. 

Is there a specific moment or story from your live performances that has stayed unforgettable for you?

There was a time I played at a blues festival called "MNOP" in southwestern France, near Bordeaux. I had a conversation with Kirk Joseph, the sousaphone player of the Dirty Dozen Brass Band from New Orleans. I was telling him how hard it was to explain my music to people and promoters because it had so many influences—some people couldn't quite figure out if it was blues, rock 'n' roll, or what. He replied: "It doesn't matter what your music is. What matters is whether people like it or not. So just do what you want. I’ve always done what I wanted, and I’ve played with B.B. King and Fats Domino."

For the album "Cooking Without Singing", you chose to release a single also in a 10-inch vinyl format. Why do you insist on analog in a purely digital age?

The 10-inch format is my favorite—mostly because I think the object itself is really cool. I also thought it worked well for a special project album. And once again, it imposes a constraint I really like: the tracks can't be too long—you have to get straight to the point. It’s actually pretty rock 'n' roll.

I insist on a physical release because when the object is real, it actually exists. You listen the story from start to finish.  Digital is just a monthly subscription that gives you access to everything sweepable; it’s there, but not really there, like the wind. For this album, I decided not to put it on the Spotify platform, which goes against my values.

“For me, the soul and intention you put into the music matter more than technique. I think it come from the blues approach. As non-musicians are more responsive to the soul of the music than to the technical side....and you play music for non-musician most of all.” (Geoffrey Lucky Pepper, a French musician, singer, songwriter, and producer / Photo by Yannick Enjalbert)

You started the project in Bordeaux and have been touring France playing at many festivals. How do you see the current state of the blues and rock 'n' roll scene in France?

The blues and rock 'n' roll scene in France is a niche, underground scene, and these are minor musical genres.  Despite that, there are plenty of great blues and rock'n'roll bands and artists —both women and men — in France. There are also some fantastic festivals, clubs and bar, but few of them relative to the number of bands.

There are also some barriers between the various sub-genres—blues, rock 'n' roll, rockabilly, and so on. So, it can be hard for some people to figure out what I do: blues? rock 'n' roll? rockabilly? More '50s? More '60s? My musical influences come from all of that, so it's a bit of everything rolled into one.

People sometimes like things to be clearly defined so they can put you in a box and know exactly what kind of music to expect. To me, these three musical styles are sisters and stem from the same root—even though there are obvious nuances. 

Blues is a quintessential American music genre with deep roots in the US South. What are the biggest challenges and advantages for a French artist trying to deliver this culture in their own authentic way?

First, when you’re French—coming from a Latin language background—you start off at a disadvantage:  the language barrier. It is not just the words, but also their dynamics. The French language does not place the words rythm in the same places in sentences. Obviously, their culture is different from ours. But there are still universal themes, regardless of culture: love, relationships, inner demons, sex, feelings—life itself, really.

Also, you aren't American, so in people's eyes you're inevitably considered less talented, and you have to prove yourself more than American artists. Often, American artists are booked first and command the highest fees, and then French artists are considered with the remaining budget. I think the main thing is simply to remain authentic and true to yourself. People can sense it.

“Performing live is the ultimate goal. It’s what fuels me and it's an adrenaline shot! For me the show is all about partying with the crowd and celebrate life. Having fun with them, and them with me. During the show, nothing else matters but the present moment, when you have to give it all. It’s also a way to release any pent-up energy—whether good or bad.  By the end, you’re tired, but you feel light and happy.” (Geoffrey Lucky Pepper / Photo by Yannick Enjalbert)

What are you doing to keep your music relevant today, to develop it and present it to the new generation?

The tricky part is that the older generations who love this music can be quite purist about the sound, the playing style, the way of dressing, and so on. Younger generations, on the other hand, don't have those same codes and aren't very familiar with the music; they might find the 1950s or 1960s style a bit "has been". 

So, rather than trying to appeal to both generations and making compromises, I just try to be myself and playing what I like. You can't please everyone anyway. In fact, I think trying to please everyone is the best way to fail in the long run. I'm trying to stay fresh, maintaining that cool, teenage vibe and keeping the rock 'n' roll energy alive. Live rock 'n' roll energy and spirit speaks to every generations.

I think, the key is to take a real interest in those musics and what makes it unique to understand its conventions. So you can then break free from the traditional, purist approach and create his own music, while demonstrating an awareness of its origins and a solid grasp of the subject matter. Once again, I don't know if I'm succeeding, but that is clearly what I'm trying to do.

What's the balance in music between technique and soul? Why is it important to we preserve and spread the blues?

For me, the soul and intention you put into the music matter more than technique. I think it come from the blues approach. As non-musicians are more responsive to the soul of the music than to the technical side....and you play music for non-musician most of all. But of course, you need a certain level of technique. That said, I might not be the best person to answer this, since I admit I’ve never practiced guitar for eight hours a day to become the best player. I don't have the attention span for that, and I find practicing just for the sake of practicing pretty boring. Generally, when I do work on technique, it’s because I’m missing a specific skill needed for a song or a certain mood. I really approach technique as something that serves my music and my intent, rather than just a way to "be good." 

And besides, I don't consider myself a very good guitarist. I'm just okay. But when it comes to singing, however, I'm much more demanding, since I don't really like my voice. I actually need to start taking singing lessons again! I think everyone is different and should just do what feels right to them. There is no really rules. That's what is cool with music and art. 

Why is it important to we preserve and spread the blues? Because the blues is a popular music that speaks to everyone. It’s a music based on sharing. And I’ve never met anyone who told me, "I don’t like the blues."

Lucky Pepper - Home

(Geoffrey Lucky Pepper / Photo by Yannick Enjalbert)