BENEDICT SINISTER
Benedict Sinister is a French/Australian music artist, producer, poet and video creator. Sinister chooses to conceal his face, preferring to take a back seat to the other artists that he pays homage to in his work. "I seek invisibility in order to make my idols more visible," he says. "I'm not interested in taking the limelight for myself. I don't want or need fame. I'm a modest vessel channeling the genius of others."
Before his recent notoriety, Sinister spent 20 years working as an itinerant musician and performed all over the world, from DJing at beach bars in Senegal to playing covers of The Smiths in Mexico and of Leonard Cohen in Japan. “I figured I’d leave busking to the likes of Ed Sheeran and Tones and I, as I was certain that was never going to be my path to success.” Sinister said, “I preferred to totally compromise my integrity as a musician, in exchange for free drinks and a wage. Between playing I was usually reading a book or was wasted as I really didn’t want to attract too much attention.”
Nonetheless, Sinister did start attracting attention after he moved to Brooklyn in 2018. The creative hub saw his immersion in the music of other artists lead him to start creating his own unique musical genre he terms “Platform,” “Adaptations,” “Old School Post-Modernism” and “Inappropriation.”
Sinister’s first single used lines from 16 songs by septuagenarian art rock fixture Bryan Ferry arranged into rhyming verses. Los Angeles based DJs Miss Beltran and Christian B released lounge and club remixes under the titles “Ne Dramatise Pas” and “16 Lines from Bryan Ferry,” the latter making No 5 Breakout on the Billboard Dance Club chart lin 2019. Sinister’s videos for the songs were the world’s first to use footnotes, combined with pastiches of other videos - from the lyrics video for the Chainsmokers’ “Paris” to “Blurred Lines.”
His follow up, “Your Parents,” an electropop track inspired by a French cabaret song by Vincent Delerm, came accompanied with a hilarious animated video Benedict also created, packed with so many witty references (from Trump to Spiderman and climate change to Last Tango in Paris), that it reached over half a million YouTube views in two months before YouTube deleted it.
Benedict Sinister’s next single, “I’ve Come to Tell You I’m Going Away”, released on 16th October, 2020, is his homage to the great break-up songs. It is a translation of a 1973 single by French musical legend Serge Gainsbourg, written after suffering his first heart attack. Gainsbourg’s song references romantic poet Paul Verlaine, and in turn Sinister has added a new spoken word part which name checks 10 artists who have memorably addressed break-ups, from Hemingway to Lana del Rey. The accompanying video shows Gainsbourg’s house in Paris over the course of a decade, as each year a new covering of graffiti replaces the artworks underneath – a visual testimony to the impermanence addressed by the song.
Things took an unexpected turn when Sinister released a punk single, "Spitting Rhymes from Debbie Harry" - a follow up to his p[aean to Bryan Ferry, but this time quoting thirty songs from the Blondie songwriter and chanteuse. The song kicks off with a provocative bang, quoting Harry's biography: "When I was dealing with Depression/There was nothing better than heroin."
Sinister's next effort, the space-age "Going Away" was his break-out track, reaching number eight in the UK club charts. It was accompanied by a 3-D animated science fiction video clip he described as "a break-up story for the hook-up era, addressing the question, 'do androids have wet dreams'?"
2021 saw Sinister further explore the theme of intoxication with the insane love letter to techno dance parties and fake cockney accents, "EDM Mockney." As well as referencing a range of artists from Chas and Dave to Die Antwoord, from Frank Zappa to KLF, and from My Fair Lady to the Shamen, Sinister claims to have invented a new cryptolect, using DJs' names to represent words they rhyme with - "Skrillex" for "sex"; "Hardwell end" for "bell end," and "Kshmr" for "Pap Smear."
Benedict Sinister is an artist for our time, precisely because he is out of tune with it. Cosmopolitan in an era of nationalism and isolation. A sophisticate exploring culture high and low, old and new, guitar ballads and EDM, when around him the world is being pigeonholed into hyper-specific “identities.” A seeker of anonymity in a society dedicated to heightened social media profiles. A truly unique and original artist in his rejection of the concepts of the unique and the original.
Sample interviews:
https://distracttv.com/benedict-sinister-on-music-and-dueting-with-kim-jong-un/
https://whatson.guide/in-conversation-with-benedict-sinister/
https://gotmusictalent.net/benedict-sinister-on-his-new-releases-and-much-more/
Benedict Sinister: The Masked Musical Provocateur
Benedict Sinister might be the only pop rebel cunning enough to piggyback on Benedict Cumberbatch’s fame and bold enough to call himself “holy unholy” in the same breath. The French-Australian artist – born in Australia and raised in Paris – has been dubbed the “Banksy of music” for his mysterious persona and subversive antics
. He deliberately chose the name Benedict (after the actor with no social media presence) and Sinister (Latin for “left” or by extension “evil”) so that his moniker literally means “blessed cursed” or “holy unholy,” setting the stage for the tongue-in-cheek contradictions that define his career
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Benedict Sinister performing with characteristic flair. The artist often conceals his face, preferring to shift focus toward the music and icons he tributes.
Background: A Global Citizen of Pop Culture
Benedict Sinister’s backstory is as eclectic as his record collection. He’s Australia-born and Paris-raised, a self-described “third culture kid” who grew up absorbing diverse influences
. Long before adopting his current alias, Sinister spent decades roaming the world as an itinerant musician – from DJing in Senegal beach bars to strumming Leonard Cohen covers in Japan and The Smiths songs in Mexico
. In the 1980s and ’90s he cut his teeth in post-punk and indie bands, but by 2018 a move to Brooklyn’s creative scene sparked a reinvention
. It was there that Sinister began distilling his cosmopolitan inspirations into a singular musical persona.
Those inspirations span continents and genres. Sinister cites influences as disparate as provocative French songwriter Serge Gainsbourg and philosopher Jean Baudrillard, Japanese novelist Yukio Mishima and filmmaker Nagisa Oshima, British punk icons like The Sex Pistols, and American pop legends Prince and Madonna
. This highbrow-meets-lowbrow palette feeds directly into his art. In Sinister’s own words, his sound is “like a burned-out old folk singer delivering provocative and ironic spoken-word poetry over chill electronica”
. In other words, he blends the literary and the musical, the retro and the cutting-edge – making “music for sapiosexuals” (as he cheekily calls his style) that rewards both intellect and groove
.
Artistic Evolution: Homage, Adaptation, and Hitmaking
After building a cult following with quirky, self-effacing songs dedicated to other musicians, Benedict Sinister finally broke into the club charts in late 2019 and 2021 with a pair of unlikely tribute hits
. His debut single “16 Lines from Bryan Ferry” literally stitched together lyrics from 16 songs by art-rock crooner Bryan Ferry, arranged into sly rhyming verses
. The track’s novelty and loungey remixes landed Sinister on Billboard’s Dance Club Chart (Top 5 Breakout) and marked him as an artist to watch
. He quickly followed up with “I’ve Come to Tell You I’m Going Away,” a brooding electro-pop adaptation of a 1973 Serge Gainsbourg classic, and “Your Parents,” inspired by a French cabaret tune by Vincent Delerm
. The latter release came with a hilarious animated video packed with witty references – from Donald Trump to Spider-Man and Last Tango in Paris – which amassed over half a million views in two months
. Sinister was proving that postmodern pop could be both erudite and crowd-pleasing.
His next move was a loving salute to a rock icon. In early 2021, Sinister dropped “Spitting Rhymes from Debbie Harry,” an homage to the Blondie frontwoman that he calls the sequel to his Bryan Ferry experiment
. The song cheekily weaves together dozens of Blondie lyrics (from “Heart of Glass” to “Rapture”) and even opens with a jarring line about heroin lifted straight from Harry’s memoir
. “I seek invisibility in order to make my idols more visible,” Sinister has said, and “Spitting Rhymes” embodied that credo – it’s less about showing off his own story than channeling the genius of Debbie Harry through a new prism
. The homage struck a chord: by now Sinister had truly hit his stride in crafting what he half-jokingly terms “old-school post-modernism” or even “inappropriation” – transforming existing art into something fresh and strangely personal
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Sinister’s “Going Away” in 2021 continued this trend of inventive re-imagination. A lounge-inflected English remake of Gainsbourg’s breakup ballad “Je suis venu te dire que je m’en vais,” it added Sinister’s own spoken-word verses referencing ten other famous breakup songs
. The track’s smoky nostalgia and clever intertextuality resonated on the dancefloor, peaking at No. 8 on the UK Music Week Club Charts
. By this point, Benedict Sinister had established a signature approach: borrow liberally from your heroes, but twist the material in ways they never imagined. He wasn’t doing straight covers; he was engaging in a kind of pop culture collage – what one writer called “the sound of a sonic hand grenade being dropped into modern pop culture”
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Satire and Stunts: The “EDM Mockney” Era
Even as he paid homage, Sinister never lost his mischievous streak. In 2022 he turned his sights on British rave culture and class pretensions with the single “EDM Mockney” (also released under the cheeky alias title “Just Like Russell Brand”)
. The song is a tongue-in-cheek ode to faux Cockney accents – Sinister name-checks the “fakest cockney accents in film history” and tips his hat to UK icons from Mick Jagger and punk band Crass to celebrity chef Jamie Oliver
. To record it, he went method-actor: “Before I recorded ‘EDM Mockney’ I immersed myself for months in the culture, studying Don Cheadle in the Ocean’s movies and Dick Van Dyke in Mary Poppins, and tossing arrows and downing jellied eels with Guy Ritchie, Jamie Oliver and Mick Jagger,” he joked
. The result was a bouncy satire that doubles as a love letter to British rave nostalgia – all shot through with Sinister’s unpredictable sense of humor
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“EDM Mockney” also served as a vehicle for Sinister’s playful feuds and social commentary. He manufactured an “ongoing beef” with two British parody rappers, Unknown P and GstaadGuy, deriding them as posh impostors “claim[ing] to represent the voice of the upper class t**t” without any real insight
. It was classic Benedict Sinister: blurring the line between satire and sincerity. In the song’s DIY music video – cast via TikTok – a young man cavorts through transgressive antics (at one point literally urinating while running, in a scene Sinister gleefully approved)
. And just when you think he’s merely chasing laughs, Sinister drops a sly aphorism that cuts to the core of modern pop: “All anyone cares about these days is authenticity. If you can’t fake that, you’ll never make it.”
. It’s a wink and an eye-roll at the music industry’s obsession with being “real,” coming from an artist whose entire act is a performance of persona.
Around this time, Sinister proved his knack for outrageous publicity stunts as well. He facetiously announced a promotion with a fast-food chain for an “EDM Mock Duck Meal,” a vegan-friendly combo made of “100% pure gluten, soy sauce, and MSG”
. With slogans like “They say ‘gluten free’ – we say ‘free gluten!’” and “MSGenius!”, he lampooned wellness fads and conspiracy theorists in equal measure
. It’s unclear if any fans actually got to try the mock duck burger, but the stunt perfectly encapsulated Sinister’s brand: part social commentary, part prank, and never taking itself too seriously.
Persona Non Grata: The Enigma Behind the Mask
Perhaps Benedict Sinister’s most striking trait is his refusal to play the typical “rock star” game of self-promotion. He almost never shows his face in public appearances or press photos, earning him that “Banksy of music” comparison for the aura of mystery
. Onstage and in videos, Sinister often dons metallic masks or obscures his visage, insisting that his own identity remain secondary to the legends he’s honoring
. “I’m not interested in taking the limelight for myself. I’m a modest vessel channeling the genius of [my idols],” he explains
. This philosophy carries over into how he markets his work: even his social media presence is sparse, with only an official Instagram while “the others are fake look-alike accounts created by government agencies,” he quipped, never missing a chance for a conspiratorial joke
.
Crucially, the anonymity isn’t just a gimmick – it’s part of an overall ethos of celebrating art over ego. In an era of Insta-celebrity oversharing, Sinister is a rarity who actively dodges the spotlight. One critic noted that “in a world where everyone is chasing celebrity and public recognition, he refuses to reveal his real face… In a time when everyone seems fixated on American music, he instead is focused on Italian urban music, French chanson… just as interested in rewriting the past”
. This contrarian approach has become his calling card. It’s also made him something of an underground cult figure: fans revel in the puzzle of his persona, while casual observers might only know him through the famous names he references.
Despite the mask, Sinister’s personality shines brightly through his work and words. He has a self-deprecating, provocative wit reminiscent of Oscar Wilde by way of Rolling Stone. When asked about the greatest lesson he’s learned onstage, he recalls an early concert where someone yelled that he was “the biggest f**kwit they’d ever seen” – a moment he gleefully cites as proof of his power to elicit strong emotions
. His interviews are strewn with such zingers and mischievous aphorisms. For instance, he measures the success of his tribute songs by whether he receives a cease-and-desist letter from the original artist’s lawyers
. And true to form, he even treats fashion as another playground for creativity: in 2021 Sinister famously sported a cropped Jacquemus cardigan typically designed for women, declaring it his muse for new music (and joking about the puzzled reactions it earned)
. Every aspect of Benedict Sinister – from his wardrobe to his wordplay – is carefully curated to surprise, amuse, and make you think.
The Legacy of a “Holy Unholy” Pop Oddity
Today, Benedict Sinister stands as one of pop music’s most intriguing iconoclasts – a walking paradox who has built an identity out of effacing himself. He operates via homage and pastiche, yet the result feels unmistakably original. Major music publications have highlighted his “enigmatic” presence over a 20-year journey
, and his recent releases show no sign of taming his experimental streak. In late 2023, Sinister unveiled “Only Sixteen,” a genre-blending track that he describes as “emo rap meets Adele” in its emotional, downtempo sweep
. Ever the trickster, he admitted he chose its title specifically to “f**k with Spotify’s and YouTube’s algorithms” – hijacking the name of a 1975 Dr. Hook hit just so curious listeners might stumble upon his song by accident
. The song itself is an English translation of a viral Italian trap tune (Autostima by duo Psicologi), complete with a new verse where Sinister slips in a reference to Cat Stevens – one more wink at a musical legend
. In short, it’s classic Benedict Sinister: bridging eras and cultures, messing with expectations, and turning a pop song into a postmodern game.
As he continues to release music on his own Music For Sapiosexuals label and charms club DJs from Los Angeles to London, one gets the sense that Benedict Sinister is perfectly content in his niche. He’s the outsider who crashed the party through the side door, armed with encyclopedic knowledge of musical history and a razor-sharp sense of irony. Critics have crowned him with titles like “dancefloor darling”
and “enigmatic maestro of musical mystery”
, and yet Sinister remains the first to poke fun at himself and the absurdity of pop culture.
In a recent interview, he half-seriously declared, “I want to be a twenty-first century Laura Branigan,” referencing the 1980s singer famous for turning European songs into English-language hits
. It’s a fitting ambition for an artist who has made reinvention his forte. Benedict Sinister’s story is still unfolding, but one thing is certain: he will keep blurring the line between tribute and innovation, between satire and sincerity, as he carves out his own sly chapter in music history. And if you ever catch yourself wondering whether he’s a genius or simply having a laugh at our expense, well – that’s exactly the way Benedict Sinister wants it.
Sources: Benedict Sinister interviews and profiles
, music press coverage and reviews
, and official press releases
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