Though the experimental U.K. rock band black midi disbanded in 2023 and released their final album in 2022, it’s not hard to recall what made the short-lived group so special. Erratic time signatures, unconventional vocal approaches and challenging genre blends came together into a sense of manic unpredictability.
But the band’s fire, explosive as it was, conjured only three albums before dwindling away in anticlimactic fashion. Three years after the dissolution, Cameron Picton, former bassist and frequent vocalist for the band, has rekindled a similar niche with his first studio album through his new project, called My New Band Believe. The earnestly self-titled record was released on Friday, April 10.
Of course, the word “band” sells the collective short, for Picton plays alongside dozens of credited artists across only eight tracks. The setup mirrors the shifting environment of musicians he played with after the dissolution of black midi.
Even with all the musicianship on display, Picton manages to keep the sound within his grasp. Nearly all the instruments played are acoustic, with his guitar often the centerpiece of each dramatic composition. Like black midi’s music, abundance is still a mainstay, but Picton’s sound gravitates back to progressive folk, with its dense lushness originating from dramatic string arrangements.
There’s no moment more tender than “Love Story,” the only single released by the band that appeared on the album. A tender piano intro sets the scene before Picton muses over domestic scenes with a lover. His inflection makes “Chopping tomatoes / While you wash the rice” sound like the most romantic memory in the world. But after a sparse instrumental break, the final verse signals unsolved loss. The rise of his vocals as the track closes with the words, “I cannot find you / You are the love of my life” leaves the listener with a mix of gratitude and loss to sort through.
Narrative shifts like these are all too common on the record, with Picton often exploring a different narrative or character for each track. Album opener “Target Practice” begins with unadulterated and unexplained spite, with each repetition of the line, “Don’t cry, you deserve this,” jabbing the unnamed “you.” Context only comes halfway through, when Picton reveals that the song targets the fictional murderer of the speaker’s uncle.
It comes as no surprise that this sense of unpredictability would drive an album made by a former black midi member. The eight-and-a-half-minute long “Heart of Darkness” starts by jumping between acoustic guitar breakdowns and rising string sections, with Picton’s singing complemented by an embellished backing choir.
At some points during this back-and-forth dance of musical approaches, “Heart of Darkness” would fit perfectly as part of an action movie soundtrack. But before things get too comfortable in the second half, all the vocals retreat before a metrically inconsistent instrumental segment that’s more ominous than anything.
But Picton doesn’t exclusively use dissonance and abrupt changes to sell his vision. “In the Blink of an Eye” and “Opposite Teacher” in particular build around particularly catchy choruses and outros. Picton’s singing shifts between isolated restraint and meandering notes with the choir behind him, giving a range that’s satisfying to take in.
The penultimate “Actress” is where everything comes together best. Strictly panned drums build to an unusual start, but soon enough, the instrumentals find art rock cohesion as Picton angrily depicts an old lover as metamorphizing into a dragon as they’re consumed by selfishness and destruction. After Picton yells the words, “Speak of the dragon / And the dragon shall appear at last,” a saxophone solo cuts through the sonic cacophony, the most euphoric moment on the album.
In comparison, the closing song “One Night” may come off as an underwhelming end. The two-minute cut features almost exclusively Picton with his guitar, with him singing so close to the mic that you can hear the timbre in his voice. But the lyrical emphasis on romantic disconnection, paired with how Picton’s voice sustains the final words, “You are not the man I took you for,” makes it an emotionally resonant way to close his new band’s first project.
Considering the relatively stripped approach to sound on the record, it’s fascinating to see how Picton still works with similar influences as black midi while adding his own stylistic flair to it all. And at 36 minutes, it’s a solid and concise introduction to the solo music Picton may, and hopefully will, continue to make.
Rating: 4.5/5.