It took Camille 15 years to make her new album, *The Sound of Milk* - a triple record documenting each stage of raising her two kids with composer Clément Ducol. *Naissance* (2015) is a field recording of baby gurgles and found sounds, featuring no real instruments. *Enfance* (2020) is a “pocket musical” full of parental ditties about stairs and washing machines. *Adolescence* (2025) is a fully produced pop album tackling ecological collapse and screen addiction. Camille says she could have released each part earlier but wasn't ready: “I needed to be able to step back and look at the journey. I needed to feel grounded enough to release it in a world that does not respect children and mothers.”

Camille, now 48, is known for vocal experimentation - beatboxing, raspberries, and what she once credited as “lip fart synth” - and her catalogue includes songs about how sperm becomes milk, along with Oscar-winning work for *Emilia Pérez*. She had to fight her label to release *The Sound of Milk* as is. “These songs are considered mother’s things: ‘This should stay in your house. Do proper songs, radio songs, in the studio.’ But these are songs. This is my life, and mothering is making the world go around.” The album is dedicated to joy in the face of darkness, countering her own “dark person” nature. “To fight depression you need joy. It sounds very redundant, but this is why I chose singing.”

Camille also takes aim at President Macron’s 2024 call for “le réarmement démographique” - literally rearming the population to counter low birthrates. “You can feel like you’re making soldiers for the world,” she says. “Mothers deliver then they’re asked to be efficient the next day, month or three months after.” The album stands for “time, for joy, for what happens when you have time with your children.” She left out the tough parts of parenting intentionally. “Today, joy has become a taboo. It’s irritating. It’s like ecology - oh, this is a luxury. Come on guys, let’s rearm the population and talk about wars and real problems.”

Her teenagers love the record. “For his end-of-year show, my son invited me to sing the songs with his friends. And he’s going to be 16 - so I think it’s very sweet.” This will be the first tour her family doesn't join, forcing her to “create a family with my band and the public.” The album, she says, is about “that vertigo, that wonder at the miracle of life.” And also about preparing for her kids to leave. “It feels so good to care for the ones you love, it takes you out of your egocentric world, but then you think, who am I? How can I feel good with just myself so that they feel freer to become adults? It’s a big kick in the ass!”