In 2013, John Doran declared that m b v, the highly-anticipated third LP from My Bloody Valentine, a whole 22 years in the making, had simply arrived too late for Kevin Shields and co. to save the world from Britpop degeneration and the political morass of the 21st century. "Thanks Kevin. Thanks a fucking bunch," Doran quipped. "All you had to do was make a bunch of songs that sound like being hit on the head with a shovel after doing poppers while listening to a melancholy whale sighing. But you couldn't be bothered and now we're all going to die in planet wide nuclear annihilation."
Ten years on, the world is still here (begrudgingly), and Doran's tongue-in-cheek armageddon has yet to fully materialise. (Not for a lack of trying, though.) And yet, amidst our contemporary moment of simmering discontent, it's unclear whether shoegaze was ever really the right vehicle for that kind of message. Throw landmark records like Souvlaki or Loveless on a turntable and ask even the most engaged listener what they're really about, and you'll likely get responses ranging from a stultified eyebrow raise to a bemused shrug of indifference. With its patented wave-of-distortion guitar attack, dizzying layers of instrumentation, and oft-whispered vocals that can best be characterized as "buried," shoegaze has always catered to a visceral and embodied listening experience over the heady introspection of cerebral contemplation.
Enter Kitchener, Ontario duo Softcult. Formed by twin siblings Mercedes and Phoenix Arn-Horn (formerly of major-label outfit Courage My Love) during a period of creative stagnation fuelled by pandemic hopelessness, the project set out to fuse the textural bombast of pedal-powered shoegaze with the explicit thematic focus of the '90s riot grrrl movement. Tracks like "BWBB" and "Gaslight," featured on last year's stellar Year of the Snake, pulled directly from the Bikini Kill playbook, taking aim at patriarchal privilege and toxic masculinity through unabashedly feminist lyricism. Others like "Uzumaki" or the shimmering "Perfect Blue" channelled the spectre of Shields like a profane muse, driving their message home with lush arrangements and fervent nods to dream-pop, indie, and grunge soundscapes. The duo's latest offering, see you in the dark, continues their descent into heavier subject matter with an air of raw vulnerability, diving headfirst into a metaphorical abyss to confront personal demons, social frustrations and their innermost fears.
"Drain" opens with a swirling broadside of millennial despair that pulls zero punches. Corporate greed, governmental crisis, environmental collapse, human extinction — there's a palpable sense of dread on the horizon, and a yearning refrain from Mercedes highlights the pointlessness of our own wilful ignorance: "Why should we dare to live forever / If nobody cares to change for the better?" Turning anguish into righteous indignation and outrage, "Dress" pivots into a full-throated statement of intent, as Phoenix's upbeat rhythms contrast against issues of consent and sexual assault. While the chorus is crystal-clear in its messaging ("lt's a dress, not a yes / Not a fucking invitation"), the verses work to reveal the lingering fear that trauma represents. Much like the physical "scar" left on the planet's surface from humanity's wanton destruction, a "monolith so large, [they] can see it from space," the lived reality of sexual violence is not only pervasive but permanently life-altering, where countless victims "won't ever feel the same again."
This approach, one of staring unflinchingly at humanity's darkness, continues across much of the EP, in lyrical nods to our lack of communal empathy and the ease of predatory behaviour ("One of a Million"), the inherent selfishness of misogyny and myopic narcissism of incels ("Someone2Me"), and the confidence to overcome personal insecurities ("Spoiled"). What makes Softcult so endearing, however, is how these themes are delivered with the deft touch of self-assurance.
Mercedes brings a restless exuberance to every hypnotic vocal line, eschewing preachiness for restraint, knowing when to pull back and let the composition drift or when to add a momentary accent of grit and emotive power to a biting closing phrase. Likewise, Phoenix's immaculate production provides the perfect instrumental palette for the duo's compositional wanderings, rendering every whirling riff and passage of atmospheric haze with enough sonic texture to yield dense and captivating results. Standout "Love Song" centres on the vulnerability of desire, replacing political anxiety with personal unease. It makes for one of their most personal and affecting cuts, a gorgeous number awash in woozy vocal harmonies and a lugubrious guitar line.
In the press material accompanying see you in the dark, Softcult state that the EP was inspired by a now-famous Nietzsche quote: "Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you." While it's clear that this acknowledgement of human darkness forms the backbone of the duo's dreamy introspection, what's perhaps more telling is that the above quote was also surrounded by other problematic Nietzschean aphorisms, linking the subservience of women to an instinctual natural order and how the threat of physical violence is a necessary component for traditional domestic bliss. All of this is to say that, even after a century or more, these thorny issues continue to rear their ugly little heads, making a group like Softcult more vital now than ever. The world might not be ending just yet, but the Arn-Horn sisters are determined to be part of the change for the better.
(Easy Life Records)Ten years on, the world is still here (begrudgingly), and Doran's tongue-in-cheek armageddon has yet to fully materialise. (Not for a lack of trying, though.) And yet, amidst our contemporary moment of simmering discontent, it's unclear whether shoegaze was ever really the right vehicle for that kind of message. Throw landmark records like Souvlaki or Loveless on a turntable and ask even the most engaged listener what they're really about, and you'll likely get responses ranging from a stultified eyebrow raise to a bemused shrug of indifference. With its patented wave-of-distortion guitar attack, dizzying layers of instrumentation, and oft-whispered vocals that can best be characterized as "buried," shoegaze has always catered to a visceral and embodied listening experience over the heady introspection of cerebral contemplation.
Enter Kitchener, Ontario duo Softcult. Formed by twin siblings Mercedes and Phoenix Arn-Horn (formerly of major-label outfit Courage My Love) during a period of creative stagnation fuelled by pandemic hopelessness, the project set out to fuse the textural bombast of pedal-powered shoegaze with the explicit thematic focus of the '90s riot grrrl movement. Tracks like "BWBB" and "Gaslight," featured on last year's stellar Year of the Snake, pulled directly from the Bikini Kill playbook, taking aim at patriarchal privilege and toxic masculinity through unabashedly feminist lyricism. Others like "Uzumaki" or the shimmering "Perfect Blue" channelled the spectre of Shields like a profane muse, driving their message home with lush arrangements and fervent nods to dream-pop, indie, and grunge soundscapes. The duo's latest offering, see you in the dark, continues their descent into heavier subject matter with an air of raw vulnerability, diving headfirst into a metaphorical abyss to confront personal demons, social frustrations and their innermost fears.
"Drain" opens with a swirling broadside of millennial despair that pulls zero punches. Corporate greed, governmental crisis, environmental collapse, human extinction — there's a palpable sense of dread on the horizon, and a yearning refrain from Mercedes highlights the pointlessness of our own wilful ignorance: "Why should we dare to live forever / If nobody cares to change for the better?" Turning anguish into righteous indignation and outrage, "Dress" pivots into a full-throated statement of intent, as Phoenix's upbeat rhythms contrast against issues of consent and sexual assault. While the chorus is crystal-clear in its messaging ("lt's a dress, not a yes / Not a fucking invitation"), the verses work to reveal the lingering fear that trauma represents. Much like the physical "scar" left on the planet's surface from humanity's wanton destruction, a "monolith so large, [they] can see it from space," the lived reality of sexual violence is not only pervasive but permanently life-altering, where countless victims "won't ever feel the same again."
This approach, one of staring unflinchingly at humanity's darkness, continues across much of the EP, in lyrical nods to our lack of communal empathy and the ease of predatory behaviour ("One of a Million"), the inherent selfishness of misogyny and myopic narcissism of incels ("Someone2Me"), and the confidence to overcome personal insecurities ("Spoiled"). What makes Softcult so endearing, however, is how these themes are delivered with the deft touch of self-assurance.
Mercedes brings a restless exuberance to every hypnotic vocal line, eschewing preachiness for restraint, knowing when to pull back and let the composition drift or when to add a momentary accent of grit and emotive power to a biting closing phrase. Likewise, Phoenix's immaculate production provides the perfect instrumental palette for the duo's compositional wanderings, rendering every whirling riff and passage of atmospheric haze with enough sonic texture to yield dense and captivating results. Standout "Love Song" centres on the vulnerability of desire, replacing political anxiety with personal unease. It makes for one of their most personal and affecting cuts, a gorgeous number awash in woozy vocal harmonies and a lugubrious guitar line.
In the press material accompanying see you in the dark, Softcult state that the EP was inspired by a now-famous Nietzsche quote: "Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you." While it's clear that this acknowledgement of human darkness forms the backbone of the duo's dreamy introspection, what's perhaps more telling is that the above quote was also surrounded by other problematic Nietzschean aphorisms, linking the subservience of women to an instinctual natural order and how the threat of physical violence is a necessary component for traditional domestic bliss. All of this is to say that, even after a century or more, these thorny issues continue to rear their ugly little heads, making a group like Softcult more vital now than ever. The world might not be ending just yet, but the Arn-Horn sisters are determined to be part of the change for the better.
