"You know, I'm not afraid of anything, apart from the void, that might trouble my future." No, Malik Djoudi is not afraid of anything and his first album fills a void in the French scene. The romanticism of a dandy who's not too sure of himself, bringing to mind Christophe, Sébastien Tellier and William Sheller; a voice that floats in the air like Connan Mockasin; the muted melodic intensity which hits a nerve like Blond Redhead; the intimacy that James Blake seems to do so well. And words in French that he handles gracefully and candidly, to an equally pared down electro pop background.
Not really club music and not just French pop music, Malik Djoudi's electronic songs combine the synthetic pop of the 1980s with something a bit like open-heart surgery. Wide open, when a lovesick lover asks a pretty girl to give him "the time to learn how to be chic like an American ", or he shows off in a Cadillac in Saint-Malo to make himself look good. Even more wide open when he admits "surprising himself by crying at the cinema." Perhaps a bit too wide open when he has to face the march of time, the complexity of romantic relationships.
A Rockfeedback Concerts Presentation