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Quiet Village collaborate with Vanessa Daou on 'Naked Hunger’ Legendary New York artist and The Daou front-woman Vanessa Daou lends vocals to Matt 'Radio Slave' Edwards and Joel Martin's second release on the ‘The Quiet Village’ imprint.

Matt ‘Radio Slave' Edwards and Joel Martin's critically acclaimed Quiet Village project follow-up, 2024's 'Reunion' with the Vanessa Daou collaboration, 'Naked Hunger' on September 5th, '25. 'Naked Hunger', which comes in 'Vocal Mix' and 'Spoken Word Mix' versions, sees Quiet Village employ their hypnotic sensibilities to one of house music's most tantalising vocal talents in Daou, resulting in a mid-tempo house cut that completely envelops.

While the vocal mix of 'Naked Hunger' leans into the interplay between Vanessa Daou's cosseting song voice and spoken vocals, with the rest of the track embracing a subtly dubby ethereal musicality, Quiet Village ramp up the instrumentation on the' Spoken Vocal' version with bass guitar and piano flourishes accompanying her sultry poetic delivery.

'Naked Hunger', Daou's first collaboration with Quiet Village, marks her first release since 2019's 'Little Black Dress'. Throughout her illustrious career, the acclaimed three-time #1 Billboard Dance Chart topper has collaborated with Danny Tenaglia, David Morales, Mood II Swing, Ralphi Rosario, Terry Farley (Farley & Heller), Charles Webster, Horse Meat Disco's Severino Panzetta, Hifi Sean, and Eli Escobar.

Friends since meeting at Goldie's legendary MetalHeadz sessions at London's Blue Note in the '90s, Quiet Village, aka Matt Edwards and Joel Martin, began releasing their brand of dubbed-out, balearic-and-beyond tracks in 2005 via NYC's Whatever We Want Records. The duo's 2008 'Silent Movie' LP was a critical smash hit that resulted in remix commissions for the likes of Bryan Ferry, The Gorillas, Leftfi eld, Francois K, Massive Attack and many more. After a few years in the wilderness, unable to use their nom de plume due to contractual restrictions, the pair launched The Quiet Village label in 2024 with 'Reunion', a stunning 6/8-time urban jazz odyssey, a favourite of the likes of Luke Una, Gilles Peterson and Ryan Elliott.

True concept albums are actually few and far between. While it can be said that The Who’s Tommy and Quadrophenia, or Pink Floyd’s The Wall were designed from the ground up, that’s not necessarily the case for equally mythical, yet composite, albums such as Bowie’s The Rise And Fall of Ziggy Stardust…, or Lou Reed’s Berlin. In France, the genre established its pedigree in the 1970s with Serge Gainsbourg, then in the early 1980s with Léo Ferré. Cri d'amour by Mélanie Chédeville adds to this list of albums that tell a story through characters.

Cri d'amour was produced in a seaside setting, which may explain its flowing, organic character. It is all by herself that the violinist-by-training composed, wrote and arranged this collection of string-drenched songs that recall Jean-Claude Vannier’s work for Serge Gainsbourg. The latter would undoubtedly have been impressed by Mélanie’s fine-cut lyrics and melodies that are as raw as they are sophisticated, vocalized in a sprechgesang recalling his own. The deliberately retro palette, up to the bass sound so typical of 1960s English rock, betrays an artist indebted to the creator of Bonnie & Clyde and Initials B.B. through a sensual, clear tonality. Yet, polyrhythms borrowed from the late afro-beat legend Tony Allen, and the touches of guitar, piano, percussion and synthesizers distilled here and there by Éric and Mélanie, end up giving the whole affair a resolutely atemporal color.

Mélanie was sixteen with a head full of Beethoven and Brahms when she succumbed to an unexpected fascination for the world of Éric, a pianist, composer and sound engineer, who regularly delivered scores for Marc Dorcel’s X-rated films. She evokes him in L'Alpha-bêta and Le Pornographe, through whispered choruses that would suit the late Julee Cruise or Vanessa Daou to a tee, and explicit allusions to a “sword of Damocles” of “XXL” dimensions.

These are not the only texts on this album that remind us of the Franco-American author Anaïn Nin’s erotic poems, a model that Mélanie willingly takes on, adding to the list of her literary influences alongside Apollinaire and his Debauched Hospodar:

Some may find this album old-fashioned, which, far from being a flaw, is a credit to the fine musician that Mélanie is. Others will call it a charming album, which is not a bad way to describe it, provided that it is a powerfully relentless charm.