Max Baby

Max Baby never really learned how to make music. He just did it — instinctively, obsessively. He grew up near Bourges, far from any kind of local scene, in a place with no artistic references. At six, he built a drum kit out of cookie tins. Then came the piano, the guitar – which he learned to play in his own strange way, placing his fingers on the fretboard like no one else, until someone showed him a more conventional position. He started recording his own tracks early on, entirely self-taught, learning by stacking things up, making mistakes, trying again.

The name Baby isn’t a stage name. It’s on his ID — passed down for three generations, ever since the children of a WWI army captain were adopted into the family line. A story shaped by transmission, distance, and rupture.