With La Grande Salle, Nathan Zanagar hasn’t just released an EP — he’s opened a conceptual venue. Five tracks deep, and we find ourselves in a sonic salon, a reflective room where language, sound, and story are equal parts host and guest. It’s a bold move in today’s algorithm-choked landscape, but boldness is exactly what defines Zanagar.
Here is an artist who isn’t afraid to blur boundaries. Between cultures, between moods, between dance and stillness. You can hear the roots of his childhood — the echoes of stages he’s graced from Paris to Manila — and yet the music feels entirely present, made for this exact moment. It’s as if Zanagar is both curator and creation: directing his own emotional film with a soundtrack custom-built for catharsis.
What’s especially compelling is the multilingual fluidity. French and English intertwine effortlessly, not for show, but for necessity. Some ideas, some emotions — they just sound truer in a particular tongue. Zanagar understands this instinctively, wielding language like a palette knife rather than a paintbrush. He cuts through the noise with clarity, never over-explaining.
Even more impressive is the emotional choreography. Some tracks explode with dancefloor-ready confidence, others retreat into bare-bones vulnerability. But they all share the same spine: authenticity. There’s no filler here. Just distilled selfhood, shaped into beats and breath. It’s radical in its honesty and rare in its execution.
Nathan Zanagar comments, “These are the most unapologetic songs I’ve ever made. I wanted to push everything further: the emotions, the stories, the sound. This is me, entirely”.
La Grande Salle is more than an EP; it’s an invitation. Step inside, and you’ll find not just the artist, but yourself — refracted, remembered, and maybe even redeemed. Zanagar doesn’t ask you to understand everything. He just asks that you feel it.