Album Review :: Cults - Static

Cults

Static

October 14 2013 (Columbia)

7.5/10

Words: Dave Beech

Despite being recorded amidst the throes of a romantic break-up between Madeline Follin and Brian Oblivion, the forthcoming album 'Static' from New York duo Cults lacks any of the underlying bitterness expected from an album that's the product of a parting of ways. Indeed, rather than air their own personal grievances, the duo have opted to make a record that, like it's predecessor, is sweet, sugary and encased in a veneer of silky smooth production. However, whilst 2011's self-titled début was full of twee pop twinkles and xylophone fills, 'Static' offers a far less saccharine listening experience as Follin's trademark sweetness is offset by a more mature undercurrent, particularly on the latter half of the record.

Kicking off proceedings is 'I Know' a dreamy and wistful introductory track and thankfully not one indicative of what's to follow; it isn't a bad song as much as it's a forgettable one, some we can attribute to it's seemingly structure-less nature and short run time. That soon changes, however, as the previously released 'I Can Hardly Make You Mine' raises the bar. A crunchy guitar and pounding percussion lead the introduction but soon fall by the wayside in favour of a bouncing bass and flute trills, it's twee, but only just and brings to mind Glasgow indie-poppers Camera Obscura.

The first notable change in the album's direction comes 4 tracks in, in the form of current single 'High Road'. It's as if the skin from their début has finally been shed, and a moodier, almost brooding aesthetic sets in. It's also here that multi-instrumentalist Brian Oblivion joins Follin on vocal duties, giving the song as a whole a higher level of depth and timbre than previously seen whereas 'Keep Your Head Up' seems to teeter on the brink of a regression before it's suitably twee opening 90 seconds make way for a track of swirling psychedelic soundscapes and vocal effects.

If 'Cults' was the aural equivalent to childhood innocence, 'Static' is the cynical 20-something, not yet jaded by life's negatives but wary enough to know it's not always peaches and cream. There are plenty of uplifting and optimistic aspects at play, however they're underpinned by a sense of reality and even, at times, darkness, exhibited perfectly by album closer 'No Hope'. It's an album of aesthetic and emotional juxtaposition and one which can occasionally be too sweet, but for the most part stays perfectly on the right side of toothache.