Nicolas Sarkozy knew it was crucial to have a rapper on his side when he ran for president. As interior minister, he became a hate figure for hip-hop after insulting the high-rises and suing rappers over offensive lyrics. So before the presidential race, his advisers rang round rappers looking for support. Most laughed in their faces. But Doc Gynéco accepted, offering a crucial photo-opportunity as Sarkozy's dreadlocked friend.
Now the presidential connection has turned Doc Gynéco - whose stagename means "Doctor Gynaecologist" - into the most ridiculed musician in France. Fans hurled potatoes at gigs, the rap community deserted him, people stopped to verbally abuse him in Paris streets. "It was as if I'd teamed up with Margaret Thatcher," he says. "But I felt France needed some authority. Thatcher was unpopular, but you knew she was strong and she did good for her country."
As if that controversy wasn't enough, Doc Gynéco had a relationship with one of France's best-known novelists, Christine Angot, famous for explicit accounts of her own sex life. This autumn, Angot's 300-page account of Doc Gynéco's bedroom antics, lies, vulnerability and devotion to Sarkozy was longlisted for a major prize. It has cemented his position as a national laughing stock.
"I was shocked," he says of this humiliation (Angot didn't even change his name). "But the hardest thing for me was the sniggering from her posh friends who couldn't work out why she was interested in a poor bastard like me." Now he has responded with an album, Peace Maker. He calls it the defining album of Sarkozyism. In it he lauds his "friend's" rightwing views, attacks the socialist Ségolène Royal for suggesting he was thick and replies to Angot's attack in a song called La Bourgeoise.
Intriguingly, the album is produced by a shadowy individual called Mosey from the sedately named collective Da Cream Chantilly. This 24-year-old with long, blond hair is in fact Pierre Sarkozy, the president's eldest son. He has been obsessed with hip-hop for years, defying his father's reputation by changing his name and disguising himself to work with hip-hop artists, biting his tongue when they unleashed vitriolic lyrics against his dad. One rapper, Poison, had no idea of the identity of the producer who swaddled himself in oversized hoodies, until he saw him on TV at Sarkozy's inauguration.
Doc Gynéco feels that the Sarkozys, père et fils, are "brave" to be his friends. (Sarkozy Sr stood by him when he was recently hit for tax evasion.) According to him, President Sarkozy is genuinely interested in ethnic diversity. "When he goes to England with Carla, he eats in the best Pakistani restaurants," he says.
Sarkozy likes the album and thinks it will do well. But his endorsement could be the kiss of death. The president has long been lampooned for his naff musical tastes, including ageing variety stars and Elvis impersonators. Doc Gynéco doesn't care though. He hopes to release more songs about the president who "has the charisma of Tony Blair or Barack Obama".