Taunton, England, collective October Drift offer intense and interesting indie rock wired to the dark side of the gloom, with buzzy guitars, ideas-heavy lyrics and a firm control of dynamics, mood and atmosphere. Emotional, thoughtful and dramatic, much of it is in a melancholy vein, if not out-and-out depressing as Hell – but hey, have you watched the news lately? It’s no fairground out there (or in your head, I suspect).
I Don’t Belong Anywhere (Physical Education Recordings), the follow-up to very-well-thought-of debut album, Forever Whatever, reminds me of my old English Literature notes on King Lear and dramatic catharsis, i.e., “the purification or purgation of the emotions (especially pity and fear) through art”. And the bit where the blinded Gloucester says: “As flies to wanton boys are we to the gods, they kill us for their sport.”
While October Drift serve up much to admire and even “enjoy”, the listener must be prepared to traverse some hard and heavy going. It’s the way of the world.
In smartly-constructed, punky and propulsive opener ‘Airborne Panic Attack’, singer Kiran Roy employs a vital, dark sense of humour, trawling through the inane intricacies and banalities of modern life: “God, you need a hobby, Join the gym, Go running, Start African drumming, Baking bread, or swimming …” Latest single ‘Waltzer’ is full of nautical references and deals with mental health (“Limping barefoot through the shards of a shattered mind …” Roy claims it’s a nod to Robert Eggars‘ film The Lighthouse).
Visceral, angst-ridden ‘Insects’ is a highlight, from the opening bass line to the spirally guitars, hooky chorus, moody bridge and abrupt ending. ‘Lost Without You’ could be best of the lot, recalling again the post-Joy Division post-punk of the likes of The Editors, Interpol or Ist Ist. Titles like ‘Bleed’ and ‘Parasite’ hint at foreboding and deliver on it. ‘Webcam Funerals’ starts out cheery and poppy but still reinforces the raw feeling of no future, no way out, horses heading for the glue factory.
It’s not ALL doom and gloom. The epic and impressive ‘Ever After’ doesn’t promise “happy” but eventually lightens up, melodically and effectively. ‘Feels Like I’m Home’ is another stand-out, something of a “typical” October Drift song in structure, skilfully developed and expertly realised, but compared to much of the rest, one might even call it “rousing” or “uplifting”.
‘Old And Distant Memory’ ends proceedings on a downbeat note but there is a welcome glimmer of light peeking through the clouds.
Cathartic, even.
Buy the album here: https://www.octoberdrift.co.uk
7 / 10
CALLUM REID