Maud Geffray Polaar

A powerful debut solo abum from the half of Scratch Massive. Tormented, paced by electric volleys that brutally pull us back to reality, strewn with chloroformed drum machines capable of suddenly launching into the purest trance, punctuated by muted pianos, swept up by drawn-out and stretched-out melodies, haunted by vocals that ricochet in echoes and possessed by a perfect pop duo with Flavien Berger, Polaar is a curious drug. A staggering sound wave underlying shadows of shoegaze, the electrified Italo-disco of the label Italians Do It Better, the dripping intonations of Lana del Rey, snippets of Depeche Mode, the current torpor of vaporwave and fragments of Bel Canto, in which the 1990s and 2000s telescope into each other. An album in which all prospects are possible, in which time stands still, trance overtakes numbness and opposites fan each other’s flames. A mix of fire and ice, sluggishness and energy, like the perfect soundtrack for a long journey spent floating, in search of light.