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Frank Ene Releases New Album “Cruel a l’amour”
The first Friday of the New Year really saw an influx of powerful releases emerging into the world, one of those almighty new records comes from Frank Ene with the new 10-track album “Cruel a l’amour”. The record is out now and available to purchase digitally and own on vinyl.
Of the new release and process, Jasper Leach writes:
Legend has it Frank Ene cut off all social contact to write his brilliant solo debut No Longer. Well, it’s not a legend. I was there. Seems one minute we were trading notes on leading a band at the bar, the next, no one, not even his best friends, not even his band, knew where he’d gone. He stopped answering the phone. He stopped replying to emails. Texts went to the green bubble. Years later, a song by way of commemoration, “Drown”: “Locked up in my room/An insect to a flame/How can I resist/What exists inside my heart?” After a year like 2020, the outside world inherently knows what it’s like to be in the world of Frank Ene, but the album – lyrically evocative of obsession and isolation, yet finding a transcendence within those confines – would have done the trick by itself. Those in the know upheld it as Album of the Year.
Ene’s solo work is a masterful study in musical self-realization, both of this era and one bygone, but also none at all. It is exclusively his own. The feel of No Longer reflected a deep immersion in the realm of Serge Gainsbourg that leaned on a fragile hip-hop background laced with echoing guitars, as if the ghost of his indie-rock past with Pure Bliss and The Fresh & Onlys was gently fading into the background. New LP Cruel à l’amour, however, has pawned the six-strings outright for Roland Junos and Moogs and vintage drum machines. Ene’s Gainsbourg admiration is again evident, but here he’s moved from Histoire de Melody Nelson to Love on the Beat territory. Recorded and mixed by producer Johnny Goss (La Luz, The Fall of Troy) at his Dandelion Gold studio in Seattle, the sound here is evocative of electro-iconoclasts such as Anna Domino, Dean Blunt and Chromatics. Ene’s distinctive baritone entwines icily with female foil Ola Hungerford’s (Cock & Swan) ethereal soprano, while Goss and the artist provide a reverb-laden buzzing pulse beneath, ever-hypnotic but never dull.
Song-for-song, Ene has proven himself yet again to be one of the most compelling and enigmatic writers of his day, meshing the kabbalistic, yearning verse of Leonard Cohen with the jazzy harmonics of Yellow Magic Orchestra and Giorgio Moroder. Moving away from the previous album’s quarantine vibes, Cruel focuses on its subjects’ intense, almost violent passions, overheard lovers’ spats, ménage à trois and the like; the dark underbelly of love and sex. Over a doomy, descending chord pattern comes the gripping title track that opens the record – “I was there in your bedroom/You were fair/Lilacs in bloom/Then you showed me the door/Honestly, honestly, you’re cruel à l’amour” Obvious single “I Always Meant to Do You Harm” might raise a few eyebrows with the title, but its undeniable groove and melodic plaintiveness make for a dancefloor classic that you could equally gyrate or weep to, to say nothing of the lyrics, an ice-cold kiss-off to a jilted lover: “To say that you could save me makes no sense/You know what, baby?/You never meant that much to me/All that I can say is that I always meant to do you harm.” Even more risqué may be the similarly infectious “Kill Me Bébé,” where it will possibly be the guiltiest pleasure of this year to hear Hungerford cry, “Kill me, kill me, kill me, kill me bébé,” while Ene whispers, “…if you love me, baby.” On one of the record’s several bi-lingual excursions, “La poussée,” a sexy groove underpins a call-and-response between the singers, as Ene depicts “An abuse of self-control/pas tout à fait/If I’m queer then you are too.”
Pressed by your humble author for a list of inspirations, Ene replies, somewhat exasperated, “Rage, alcohol, nicotine, grief, squalor, mental chaos, and nothingness.” Nothing but the classics, then. But really, music is a life-force rather than a genre game for Frank Ene – just the way it should be. “I go into this without any ROI in mind. I just have to do it,” he says. “It’s critical to my existence.” It’s that kind of intensity and commitment to his craft that makes Cruel à l’amour such a vital piece of work, and further evidence of Ene’s idiosyncratic genius and virtuosity.
Jasper Leach
The entire record is ready to grip the listener from start to finish, a deep adventure throughout each of the 10 compositions that unite for this immersive collection. Channeling this complexity through the sultry, dark attributes, and the captivating, moody vocal notes. The labyrinth of synth textures on offer plays out this brooding infusion of elevated brighter tones to more jarring, jilted, experimental vistas. Frank Ene embarks on building such a plentiful and varied soundscape from track to track, filled with addictive synth loops, sweeping melodies, and crisp beats.
There’s something so magical moving the atmosphere through the moody resonance. Frank Ene creates expressive ambiances which groove this combination of classic 80’s themes with more refreshing innovative, and current sound design. Collaborating with the mighty range of synth patterns and allowing the vocal harmonies to harness emotive flexibility, further alternating the path of each composition. Amongst the animated textures, Frank allows volatility to shine, unafraid to focus on the warmth of the tonality or the isolation from the personal lyrics.
This record embraces such a timeless feel.
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