The sweet, folky chug of opener and title track ‘Peace Cult’ perfectly backs Jill O’Sullivan’s lilting vocals, but across the album, she, Andy Monaghan, and Peter Kelly take us on quite a trip. It’s a murky and confusing world, which is why you should savour Jill cooing that things will be fine. The woozy harmonica evokes Laurel Canyon at its counterculture peak, but as Neil Young warned, that vantage point revealed the oncoming dune buggies, and so much darkness.
‘Roman Walls’ leads us to a darker setting, a late 60s bad trip, nature’s idealism clashing with harsh realities. The guitars bite throughout, with the swampy stew of ‘Crushing the Campsies’ swaggering with exhilarating menace. Sparks fly from virtually every track, unsettling you at every turn.
This modern record is infused with the pain and poison of today’s world, yet it flies with the spirit of decades ago, when artists spun allegorical tales unconcerned with algorithmic conformity. ‘The Hunter’, aptly, creeps up on you, the rhythm snaring you before guitar fuzz coils around the prey. Closing track ‘Rainmaker’ is weary but never falters, marching on, pushed by pulsing electronica before the shock of silence jolts you upright.
Peace Cult is sprawling and expressive, but never lost. Whether tracking you quietly or making your heartbeat race as it reveals itself, menacingly, this record helps you grasp today’s world while offering an escape, if you wish. If you’ve ever moaned that today’s artists don’t make them like they used to, they do so here, and how.
Peace Cult will be released on 15th November via Monohands Records. Available here.
Main Photo Credit: Andy Monaghan
