Lone Wolf - The Devil And I

Having released his debut album ‘Vultures’ under his own name, Paul Marshall has chosen the moniker of Lone Wolf to release ‘The Devil And I’. Opening ‘This Is War’ signals an album of troubling lyrics and sombre melodies. The lyrics fit perfectly with the moving melodies and tenuous delivery. Marshall narrates a tale of fear and distress. “We fear for our lives around her.” There’s something engaging about his voice, a sense of foreboding contained within.

The tension of the record continues with the mournful ‘Keep Your Eyes On The Road’. With changes in timing and sorrowful harmonies, it does its best to keep up intrigue, but unfortunately it flounders slightly under the expectations that ‘This Is War’ brought with it. ‘Buried Beneath The Tiles’ is haunting, anguished strings backing Marshall’s grievous delivery.

The songs of ‘The Devil And I’ are sombre and sinister, sometimes unbearably so. It’s hard to work out if the songs are pompous and pretentious or beautiful and sorrowful – they swing uncomfortably between the two. ‘15 Letters’ is a ominous tale of death; murder to be exact. “She led me down the garden path and bled me dry. She did her make up in the reflection of my glassy glazed eyes.” The rather detached delivery of these lines is striking and wonderfully affecting, making ‘15 Letters’ an album highlight.

‘The Devil And I’ is a bleak account of life, love and more often than not, death. Each song seems to follow a similar and slightly disturbing path – a brilliant one at that. The record is dreamy with troubling undertones, each song becoming a saga, the narrator wearily bemoaning his grim fate. However beautiful these songs are, this sombre feel can be dragging at times. The songs on the record that truly work are the songs that aren’t pompously obvious; the subtle strains of bleakness are far more affecting than the tracks that grab you instantly with their startling lyrics. At times, the album seems to be crying out to be noticed, the lyrics occasionally seeming far too forced and staged, desperate to appear sinister and bleak. ‘The Devil And I’ almost pleads for repeated listens, and if the bleakness doesn’t wear you down, the record is definitely worth more than a glance. Masked by the occasional showy lyrics is a record of genuine beauty. If you can lift the mask and find the body of ‘The Devil And I’ underneath, it is a wonderfully rewarding album.