Born and raised on the staircases of N.D.G. with his heart-beat pounding to the rhythm of the street, Max Davis woke up late one day, went to get some sun, heard a bird’s song and sang-along. Suddenly, it dawned on him, as words wrote themselves to the melody, and the murmur of the city drummed along, that music was all around in nature.

The sky tore open and a beam of light brought down three angels. Together they held the most ancient of instruments, a six-string guitar, with the steel of the strings reflecting a blinding, heavenly glimmer. Max Davis stared in awe at the spectacle, and reached out like a child reaches for candy.

“Who do you think you are?” said one of the angels as he smacked Max’s hand away.


“Well that’s obvious. But this is not your guitar…”

“Well, why not?”

“Because you are not the Chosen One, and this guitar is only to be played by the Chosen One” all three angels sang together in chorus

“Oh… who is the Chosen One, then?”

“You see that g… hey!”

As the angels pointed in the direction of the supposed Chosen One, Max pulled the guitar away from their arms and made a mad dash into the alleyways of NDG. The heavenly beings may have had clairvoyance on their side, but nobody knew the network of backyard passages like Max Davis.

For years he slunk around, learning new chords, learning new tunes from the birds, and avoiding beams of light until one day he heard an unrecognized melody coming from the main boulevard. The melody was unlike anything he’d heard, yet it felt familiar, like a lullaby long lost in the land of dreams. If N.D.G. was already the land of dreams, where was this melody coming from?

Max made his way to the streets, keeping one eye to the sky, one eye one the street, and both hands wrapped tightly around his instrument. The melody was coming from a gray and red figure standing at a crossroads, and despite this thing being the creepiest, most unnatural thing Max had ever seen, his footsteps kept a steady pulse. The melody turned to words, and rang like thunder:

“Who goes there?”

“Max?… who are you?” our local lurker whimpered while looking around for help.

“My name is of no importance. You carry the heavenly instrument of the chosen one. I have come here from an unknown place to give you the deal of all deals”

“Oh hell yeah! I love a good dea – ‘

“SILENCE! Okay, now that I have your attention: if you give me your soul, I will give you a voice to go along with the heavenly instrument”

“My soul, what are you gonna do with that?”

“When you die, you will have to perform for me… eternally! Until your fingers bleed and your voice is a mere whisper and then some”

“We got a deal!” Max said as he contemplated his newfound job security

As the thought twirled round his head, the gray and red figure appeared to sink into the Earth with what sounded like a sinister, howling laugh. But the joy of nabbing such a sweet job – Max had never had a job before — and being given a new voice was all too much for him to care about the Demon he’d just encountered.

Now, all that’s left is to go practice! he thought as he walked away from his place of birth and set out on a new adventure.

Maybe the angels would hunt him down, and maybe he’d want his soul back one day, but at this point, all that was one his mind was rock and roll.

On a more serious note

Max Davis was born and raised in Montreal (QC) Canada.  He was signed to Silver Moon Records in the fall of 2016 with a planned first in June 2017.  Playing a groovy style of indie alternative folk pop rock, he is used to busking around with his guitar and his wits. 

Max is currently self-managed, but this situation is likely to change in the upcoming weeks.  For bookings, please contact bookings@maxdavismusic.com.  For other information, please contact ihaveaquestion@maxdavismusic.com.

A&R at Silver Moon Records:
Martin-Alexandre Beaulieu