FRATER CRATER (vinyl)

Description

Saint Sadrill is the name Antoine Mermet, a discreet but hyperactive individual, gives to his pop goldsmiths, whose second collective album, Frater Crater, arrives after six years of silence. The spirits of James Blake and Mark Hollis seem to be summoned to a banquet organized by Scott Walker and St Vincent. Call it avant-pop, indie emo, or lo-fi chamber music with an experimental touch. - - The seven songs on Frater Crater unfold like a series of locations whose lighting varies from blinding halogen to unsettling darkness, never quite reaching ideal sunlight. While the core musicians remain the same—vibraphone, guitar, keyboards, drums, and bass—the instrumentation has expanded to support Antoine Mermet's vocals: accordion and synthesizers have been added, acting as levers for the deployment of intriguing soundscapes. If a deluge occasionally breaks out, it stops before the water reaches the nostrils: drowning is still avoided, but clothes are heavy. In other words, this music is both innovative and accessible, capable of breaking the hearts of both lovers of melodic clarity and the avant-garde: the sophisticated arrangements and complex structures are as striking as the irresistibly effective melodic discoveries. The overall sound is dusty yet lush, 666% emo and immature: the lyrics ask unanswered questions, detail hours of stillness and desires for superpowers, while the music oscillates between emptiness and excess. - - Frater Crater thus follows Pierrefilant, a first collective album recorded in 48 hours and released in 2018, which itself came after Building Lampshades, a solo synth-pop EP in the form of a sketchbook, released in 2016. It is carried by a close-knit group, neither a chamber ensemble nor a rock band, nor all of these at once. It features key musicians from Lyon's innovative music scene, who share a preference for creativity over adherence to rules. - - When he's not writing sad songs, Antoine plays saxophone and sings in CHROMB! and explores in Vocoder or Bouche Amplifiée. And when he's not making music, he performs for Alice Laloy or Guillaume Bailliart, dances for Nitsan Margaliot, plays for Nile Koetting, Megan Cope, collaborates on exhibitions and performances by Tiphaine Calmettes, or showcases his own visual work. Consistency and specialization are clearly not his strong suits. Saint Sadrill is his personal project, a band he formed in 2015 by inviting five musicians and friends who long ago abandoned devotion to a precise aesthetic, preferring openness and exploration.