Having just hosted a pre-listening session for fans while at sea, Fabienne admits she felt a new kind of nervousness. “It was the first time that I’m showing any of these unreleased songs to people… I was a bit nervous.” But the response reassured her. “Super, super nice reactions. They were always clapping… I think they enjoyed it.” That anxiety perhaps stems from the fact that this is the first time the music goes out under her name alone. “I think I only start to realize this now when I throw out the music… now it’s actually really happening.” What began as melodies that didn’t quite fit Illumishade slowly evolved into something that demanded its own space. “I had still so many melodies in my head… and I didn’t want to wait two, three years.” Some ideas leaned more folky, others more cinematic. “I just wanted to start this new project with my world lore that I’m creating.”

That “world lore” became central to the creative process. Rather than writing a rigid concept record, Fabienne built emotional landscapes. “It’s about emotions within a story. It’s pictures and landscapes… this is the world that I was thinking about when I was composing.” ‘Starveil’ itself represents a season within this imagined universe — not yet a fully concrete storyline, but a first layer of something bigger. “This is only the beginning of something that I really want to pursue.”

Part of that world-building comes through language — or rather, languages that don’t exist outside her imagination. Inspired in part by artists like Enya and her experience singing Gaulish in Eluveitie, Fabienne embraces the emotional power of sound beyond literal meaning. “There is so much more to expressing emotions than words,” she explains. “It’s so interesting to experiment with different vowels and consonants and see how that makes the song feel.” On ‘Starveil’, she introduces two distinct invented linguistic styles: “a little bit more rough, folky, earthy” and another “a little bit more Elvish.” For her, vowels shape tone and tone shapes emotion. The voice becomes pure instrument.

That experimental mindset extends into the album’s structure. Drawing from her musical theater background, she incorporates reprises and recurring motifs — melodies reappearing in new settings like hidden threads. “It’s like these little Easter eggs,” she smiles. A metal chorus melody might re-emerge in a soft violin interlude. The result is what she calls “a little labyrinth” — diverse in genre, but unified in spirit.

One of the album’s most striking moments arrives in “Ritual,” her collaboration with Lena Scissorhands. Interestingly, the track didn’t exist at first. “It was the last song on the album. And first, it didn’t even exist. And we were like, ‘Ah, something is missing.’” Knowing the song required screams, Fabienne reached out to Lena. “I really wanted her screams there.” The interplay between the two vocalists feels almost theatrical, a dialogue unfolding between clean highs and ferocious growls. “I like when you do a feature, you need to let this feature shine.” She points to one specific moment: “When I do the high clean vocals and she is screaming underneath it… together it brings this very intense emotion.” It’s a contrast that adds a distinct color to the album — one Fabienne feels would be missing without it.

Vocally, ‘Starveil’ allowed her complete freedom. “I could this time show in one album the whole range.” From fragile folk textures to towering, layered choirs — sometimes stacking “probably like 80 vocals” — she embraced every facet of her voice. Some passages even lean toward a near-classical brightness. And she’s already looking ahead. “For the next album, I can implement some screams for the first time. Let’s see.”

Perhaps the boldest step is that she’s doing all of this independently. No label. Physical copies handled together with her family. “I hope that it comes across that it’s made with a lot of love and very personal.” The pride is audible in her voice — as is the vulnerability.

When it comes to bringing ‘Starveil’ to the stage, she envisions two paths: full-band metal shows and intimate acoustic performances. Piano, harp, guitar — perhaps even hammered dulcimer one day. An acoustic tour is already in the works. In both settings, the goal remains the same: immersion. “I really want people to escape a little bit… for an hour or two.” That sense of stepping beyond reality lies at the heart of the project. And if listeners take one thing from the album, she hopes it’s this: “I hope everyone that listens to Starveil will be able to dive into a world beyond ours and just let go for a moment and get a chance to breathe.”

With ‘Starveil’, Fabienne Erni doesn’t just step into a solo career — she opens a door into a universe that feels deeply personal, carefully layered, and only just beginning.

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