Marie Davidson
Marie Davidson [CS; Holodeck]

I have been casually learning French via a website that makes learning French less intimidating than it seemed in high school and college. I have always been drawn to the romantic language, and not in wet dreams spiked with visions of intimacy with Parisian women or fits of porn boredom wherein I think I can woo a woman with my awful nasally pronunciation. You can’t win smart women over with clichés, so I turn to Marie Davidson and her EP of robotic machinations to improve my speaking and to wow my wife when I can live out my teen fantasies in a future trip to the land of bread, wine and stripes. We will certainly tuck a copy of Davidson’s tape in our carry-on luggage, allowing us to soak up the France we wish to experience; the fearless and strange artists who do not fit in with the pop star archetype of Alizée or the classic ballads of Brel. Though favorites, they don’t have the weird energy of Davidson’s synthesized pop. At once this feels timeless like my dreams but rooted in a particular location. But it realigns my youthful transgressions into something more sophisticated if equally sexual. That’s the magic spell I’ve associated with France for all these years and now it’s transported to me by the sexy shimmy of Davidson’s post-modern pop.

Links: Holodeck

Cerberus

Cerberus seeks to document the spate of home recorders and backyard labels pressing limited-run LPs, 7-inches, cassettes, and objet d’art with unique packaging and unknown sound. We love everything about the overlooked or unappreciated. If you feel you fit such a category, email us here.

Most Read



Etc.