DOWDELIN explores as a tireless ever moving trailbazer a path where Creole jazz, electronic dancefloor sounds and Caribbean percussions come together to create a unique Future Kréol feeling. 

The Paul theory Black Gilroy, that Atlantic, «there an English title is a of hybrid sociologist, an important culture, states which work the by is neither African, nor American, nor Caribbean, nor British, but all that at the same time: the black Atlantic.» It is a world of cultural exchanges and incessant back and forth, where music is key/central. A universe of multiple and reciprocal borrowings that, aesthetically, sticks perfectly to Dowdelin, a Lyon-based trio exploring Afro-futurism in its Creolized form, plunging the traditions of the French West Indies into a great fountain of electronic youth glazed in jazz, in a way that few have so far. 

Creole Feeling It all began, or not quite actually, when the singer Olivya contacted David Kiledjian, then in the middle of his Fowatile adventure ( a project of future funk infused with hip-hop well-known by 2.0 groove enthusiasts). It is not yet the moment and Dawatile then doubts the relevance of a group with the soul influences in English, with a non English-speaking singer… But they stay in touch, and a year later, an idea sprung: what if Olivya sang in Creole, her mother tongue, she, who is Martinican? Banco. They spent countless hours glued to the computer together, looking for the right track, trying out gimmicks, exploring threads, grabbing a microphone or an instrument as soon as an idea takes shape. This is Dowdelin’s genesis: two individuals, constantly exchanging, in a quest for a Creole feeling chiseled by electronics. 

Of the art of mixology Seeking the right dosage then becomes the ultimate quest. In other words, find the surprise ingredient that will enhance the taste, or the subtler one that will only help magnify the whole. In cocktail as in music, the method remains the same. 

Dowdelin illustrates this art of blending: the search for the recognizable ancestral flavor in the moment, pairing it with an unusual influence, shaking everything to create the texture that will make the difference. We sometimes think of Max Cilla, the flutist, to Jacques Schwarz-Bart, the saxophonist, but also to the work of the collective Mawimbi on African music. 

Being embroidered in the bubbling afro-futuristic scene and confirming the return of Caribbean influences in French pop, Dowdelin becomes a trio when David thinks of an old fellow musician whom he has not met in ages: Raphael Philibert, Guadeloupian poly-instrumentalist omnipresent on the jazz scene (both had played in the same Caribbean jazz band), saxophonist for Sonny Troupé, but also a goldsmith in Afro-Cuban percussions and a tried Gwoka player. He is added to the sketched repertoire: it’s a match!