Once known as Mass Cult Suicide, the newly-shorn Mass Cult’s previous moniker was strangely more interesting and beguiling. The core duo of Dan Trolley and Yolanda De Rose were probably convinced that by dropping the ‘suicide’ it would lighten the mood. Don’t be fooled. This Ain’t No Paradise is firmly entrenched in that New York loft scene dreaming of Boss Hog.
Oh Goodtimes dips even further into the past to scrounge around the corners of the garage scene, like some Dickensian urchin, to get some inspiration from Nuggets records. At times Trolley sounds uncannily like Mark Ferrie or Garry Grey when he sings, before the fuzzing guitars and organ veer the ship closer to the brink of disaster.
The lifejacket is the ‘woe is me’ mood, which becomes irksome the second time around. Deadend Jobs and Drive You Home make for a quaint period piece listen for indie nostalgists, although newcomers may find the charms a little more elusive. The Talk Of The Town is an awkwardly engaging listen because of the ramshackle inspiration. Drive You Home is clearly the pick of the bunch and sticks in the memory like a stubborn stain with its mantric drugginess and cheeky, robust, minimalism.
The indie rock male-female-garage-duo is currently so very hip and reference points are painfully obvious. The Kills and Royal Trux for starters. Withered, this record is neither new nor groundbreaking, but it would be a crime to stifle some of the oddity that is at the core. This takes Mass Cult away from being mere clones of well-defined genres. They could, however, benefit from attending a songwriting seminar, as the subject matter becomes too repetitive after repeated listens.
Feels Like Yesterday buzzes along nicely and suggests that they will probably never dig themselves out of the miserable spaces they are resigned too. Even though Mass Cult do not attempt to break out of the boundaries, they could do better than “Dead mouse in the kitchen again”. So lacking an abundance of strong tunes or depth, by the end of This Ain’t No Paradise vanishes up its own collective posterior. Great name though and more the pity that they do not display enough of the bonkers brilliance of those dazed and misguided doomsdayers their moniker envisages.
Best Track: Drive You Home
If You Like These, You’ll Like This: BOSS HOG, THE KILLS
In A Word: Introspective
