Why oh why does the self-titled debut album from Cults work so incredibly well? I have definitely been a sucker for what seems to me to be a trend over the past years to mesh certain styles together that on paper just don’t make much sense, but when it’s executed it works in fantastic fashion. A good example of that would be TV on the Radio who over the past 5+ years have gone so far as to record a barbershop quartet style rendition of Pixies’ “Mr. Grieves”. Maybe there is something in the water or in the air in Brooklyn – the home of both these bands – that make these mixing of styles make so much sense, but this album is another rich addition to that theory. I first read reviews of this band saying – like The Raveonettes – they were mixing elements of shoegaze, a crap load of reverb, all along with pop melodies and inspirations from various girl groups from 60’s Motown. Potentially lovely, potentially disastrous. For me it turned out to be more than lovely. I definitely expected them to be more in that Raveonettes vibe where there is a dark undercurrent and atmosphere below pretty much every melody they churn out. But luckily, and what makes this album work is, it’s pop through and through. Sure, the sounds are there at times that are so easily associated with bands who have that dark, reverb soaked thing going on, but these are first and foremost pop songs – from generations past. The vocal melodies, the bass, the voice of lead singer Madeline Follin – the mixture of it all just somehow works seamlessly. So much so that whenever I listen to this album it feels like to me if that Motown sound from 50 years ago was to break on the scene today – with today’s styles in sound and instrumentation – Cults would be at the forefront of the movement. The soul of bands like The Shangri-Las and The Supremes just seem to exist in their blood so naturally that it makes their album come across so sincere and outright genuine. Add a bit of Phil Spector to their own modern day wall of sound on songs like ‘Bumper’ and ‘Never Saw the Point’ which are just oozing these giant massive hooks, it’s a shame that so many wrote them off from day one just because they began their career on a major label. This is a large album no doubt (despite its perfectly short 33 minute running time) – a big unashamed relentless statement of huge beats and a love for summer just aching for a communal festival sing along with thousands upon thousands of fans (disciples) – but let your guard down. This is breezy pop music at it’s finest, and coupled with it’s infectious innocence – it’s probably the funnest and more unique albums of the year. Rave On, indeed.