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The Chronicles of Fray
Fray are like being woken by someone setting fire to your pubes. Pounding, earthy, grungy filth, that spurts and grunts its ugly way across the stage, taking bits of Audioslave, Tool and Deftones and hammering them roughly into shape, this quartet make an awful lot of frankly fabulous racket. Seething, riff-laden, emo noise that's as greasy as a kebab shop floor.
New frontman Shem has made Fray a heck of lot harder to ignore, and you wouldn't want to in the first place he gives the bands songs a more diverse edge, with outstanding vocal abilities and song writing skill not see since early Peal jam, Tool and Rage Against The Machine, reflecting on life experience pouring his soul into the songs.
He’s got a gritty enlivening roar and whatever germs of potential they may have had a year ago have multiplied like MRSA on a hospital ward. Fray haven't just improved, they've grown up, grown out and gone a bit peculiar in their adolescence.
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