Marie-Flore - Braquage

I've let myself be seduced. Impressed. Unintendedly, I admit, because a priori it isn't really my kind of music. But preconceptions are meant to be overcome aren't they?
Actually, this hold-up’s as borderline and as addictive as French series Braquo.

At first sight, you may see a resemblance with Angèle, with Clara Luciani (deep voice) or with Hoshi. Well, stuff of the moment, you know. Influenced by both American dance or RnB big productions, and the new masters of French rap. Yet there is something else in Marie-Flore, when you go further. Maybe a touch of Christophe and of "I'm Not in Love" ("Cambre").
And everywhere this singing which beats about the bush and these couldn’t-care-less intonations which stick a knife into your heart.

Her pop pieces full of hit-like tchakapoom ("Tout ou Rien", "M'en Veux Pas", "Partie Remise") are good and well controlled. It moves and it’s cool. However, they don’t form the major part of the album, in which some melancholy dominates, against a backdrop of toxic and absolute love affairs.

The first words of the album are “You’ve got to stop” and the last ones are “Or you’re just an idiot”. This is rather indicative. In between, the lyrics are acid and often sexual. Youth parlance is accepted, crude, but without reaching the filth of some trendy rappers. On the contrary, you can find finer points, artistic references (Klein, Caravage), sports metaphors, derision, puns and dogged search for the rhyme, should it be in [-aʒ] (braquage), in [-aj] (pagaille), in [-iz] (surprises) or in [-aʁ] (départ).

A poisonous and subversive (but not disruptive) charm emerges from the work, which leads us on the slope of the rollercoasters of her emotions. Be careful, it shakes. In short, why should I beat about the bush? I've let myself be seduced. How about you?