I’ve been listening to the self titled record by a band called Cult of Youth for the past hour. I’m having such difficulty in pigeon-holing them. They come from New York City and play a palette of folk, post punk, dirge and pop. They sound like an angry Robert Smith playing funeral music, with a delicate spoonful of thoughtful, folk arrangement fed into the mix. I’m struggling here, perhaps Cult of Youth’s derangement is too potent for me to pick apart in just one paragraph.
Track three, 'Monsters' bolts out of the gate in rampant style, stitching together up-beat guitar twanging with uncompressed vocals that seem to reach eternally skywards. Perhaps only by my own ear, but, I can hear jabs of Irish influence, native folk beat, and european Pagan influence. The slow march of 'Casting Thorn's' mourning song props up the spine of this record with it's plaintive utterings of 'When mercys our passion, we fall to our knees,' delivering peak after peak of poignancy and unblemished emotion.
Listen to this record and fall unregrettably in love with noise all over again. Download it here