Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Brian Thorn at Room 17, New York City
The honeymoon ends. It always does. It's not any honeymoon in particular, just all of them. The glow wanes. It recedes to a place that's far removed from the light that was showing at the outset of the honeymoon. It's that intersection of still warm feelings and the recognition of the impending chill where relationships get interesting - when the slaughter begins, slowly, but persistently, when some words become triggers and arrows and various sighs are packed with innuendo and insinuation. People meet and the surprises that entail are fodder for so many stories, for so many poems, songs and screenplays. The fascinating ones are those that - while they might not end - endure sloppy lines, all kinds of misadventure and plenty of poor decisions that could have forced an ending at any given time.
They did all begin with a spark and it was these sparks that New York band CULTS seemed to most focus on in its earlier years - those swooning, if haunting and confusing moments of inception, when all was new and charmed. Things change and the static starts to set in somewhere down these roads and it's a bit more where we find them here and on their latest record, "Static."
Brian Oblivion and singer Madeline Follin take on the roles of people who have been through the painstakingly nagging tussles. They've raised their voices. They've walked away and they've returned to the bed that they're most familiar with more times than they want to admit to. These are people who have written themselves into corners and they're trying to adjust accordingly. They sense that the chill is upon them. They're putting on more layers, but nothing seems to be working. It's getting darker earlier every day now.