It is through a small door that we enter into a set of Arletta Malibu. You have to lower your head a little, then climb a few steps.
At first, we wonder. Spoken voices, heartbeats, a church bell, we had been told about electro though !
A certainty, only, from the first seconds : we are above. And elsewhere.
Arletta she picks you where you are, she whispers things in your ear, she takes you where it does not leave you the choice. Vermilion lipstick and tomboy haircut, looking at you smile of the story she tells you : Deephouse, nue-disco, minimale, néo-transe, techno, the minutes fly away like the pages of the book that we do not want to finish. Arletta's music is carnal and epidermic, feminine and sophisticated, magnetic and luminous - especially with closed eyes.
We would followed her everywhere, in her anachronistic detours and until the indecent hours when the sun could have risen already twice.
We do not care we do not count anymore. We listen Arletta Malibu.