Frayle is one of those projects that immediately makes a strong impression, with the duo of singer Gwyn Strang and multi-instrumentalist Sean Biloveck leaving a lasting feeling with both their occult doom and powerful visuals... But, as is often the case with this kind of instant love at first sight, the ‘wow’ effect can also wear off: we were of course seduced by the proposal and Frayle had previously offered several spells as heady as they were powerful, we were also waiting for them to confirm their talent because, once the initial charm wore off, we also found them to have a tendency to repeat themselves a tiny bit. Heretics & Lullabies is their third album and the perfect opportunity to see if, as the French say, ‘la troisième, c'est la bonne’, to which the Turks would respond with ‘Allahın hakkı üçtür’ and the Hungarians would top it with ‘Három a magyar igazság’. In short, third time lucky, or third time's the charm!
So we start listening with a mixture of eagerness and caution. It must be said that the costumes are impressive, so we tend to get distracted! Let's not jump to conclusions, even if Walking Wounded makes us feel that it's going to be a blast. With Frayle, it's always a blast at the beginning, no matter which track you listen to. The contrast between the menacing and sinister heaviness of the instruments and Gwyn Strang's ethereal vocals is what makes this album so unique. We suspect that this introduction, a hypnotic and mystical doom-laden nursery rhyme, conceals some dark magic hidden between two creepy whispers, something designed to immediately grab our attention. Or perhaps it's the absolute effectiveness of the vocal lines, which aren't afraid to borrow their catchiness from pop music? Go listen to Heretic (featuring former Mushroomhead member Jason Popson) right now and dare to tell us that the chorus won't stay in your head for nights to come.
Pop music indeed quickly comes into play, as Frayle tackles Lana Del Rey's Summertime Sadness. This isn't the Cleveland duo's first reinterpretation: their haunting version of Bauhaus's Bela Lugosi's Dead and their cover of Soundgarden's Head Down were already two examples of covers that managed to respect the original song while bringing a new personality to it. Here, the fact that they have drawn from an even more distant repertoire reinforces the impression that ghosts have taken possession of a well-known song and brought it back from the grave. Melancholy, a chorus that stays with you, heaviness (we would have liked even more!): the wow effect lasts, so let's stay on our guard!
We are wary, but we are also beginning to notice that Frayle's ambitions seem to have been revised upwards... Is this linked to the signing with Napalm Records or just proof of a concept that is asserting itself, deepening and coming into its own? With Heretics & Lullabies, the tension never lets up and the whole is varied enough to keep us fascinated. While we would gladly settle into the poetic mists that emanate from these lullabies, the rougher passages add intensity and pull us out of our routine: Boo, with Popson's saturated vocals, Demons and its creeping darkness that jumps at our throats, the riffs of Glass Blown Heart... It packs a punch, and Frayle maintains a precarious and fragile balance between the upward movement of vocals as light as a soul taking flight and the downward heaviness of the guitars and rhythms, which are more abyssal.
In addition to spells and melancholy, there is a certain resilience here, even though we sense that this apparent gentleness conceals as many scars as it does poisons. We allow ourselves to be haunted by this delightful reverberation that imposes its gothic touch, by the theatricality of Run and Only Just Once... and we realise that we have gone through the album without the wow effect ever fading. This time, that's it: Frayle has found the formula to refine his ultra-seductive concept, and Heretics & Lullabies has no weak moments. It is catchy, mysterious and has a very particular refinement. The listener finds themselves, like Hansel and Gretel, drawn in by all these sweets, only to find themselves trapped in the middle of a dark forest. So, if you're going to get caught in the web of this spell, you might as well turn off the lights, light a candle, turn up the volume and savour this variation on doom that is as convincing as it is addictive.
