Since Black Midi went on hiatus, Cameron Picton has demonstrated similar desires of mega world-building as fellow Midi-ite Geordie Greep, albeit by different methods. While Greep’s debut solo album, The New Sound, favoured the magic of performance, Picton’s new band, My New Band Believe, prefers illustrative folk.
Picton uses his own preference for normality and abnormality’s sake. On his new band’s debut album, he uses a fairly varied take on English folk music to navigate nature’s maze, paranoidly running through a forest world in an effort to leave a former life behind – quite fitting considering Picton’s own trajectory is closer to Black Country, New Road’s rural present than Black Midi’s proggy past.
His fondness for folky verisimilitudes does breed similar highs to The New Sound. Geordie himself would be proud of the crescendos of Actress, not too unlike those of The Magician. Not only does Cam bellow; the journey to those bellows is sublime; illustrious finger-picking that resembles the erratic pick-ups of King Crimson’s Peace – A Theme (sprinkle a few major sevenths in and you’re sound); and a few samba-adjacent bits seamlessly finessed into its eight-minute structure.
The moments that build to terror or doughy sweetness are akin to the best of Grizzly Bear / Daniel Rossen. The bumpy musical trajectory of In the Blink of an Eye, where guitar travels, uncaring where the clarity of chords is concerned, has that Southern Point vibe, snake-charmed by harmony, whilst using said trajectory to truly capture that theme of paranoia, to escape to a new life some place presumably safer. “Hello, Mr. Thompson”. “I think he’s talking to you”.
And if you’re like me and you love anything you can compare to Grizzly Bear in an album review, you’ll love Opposite Teacher’s tendency to snap back into uneasy acoustic melodies, as if terrorising itself, retaining that sense of mental imbalance.
Cameron shares figuration with Fairport Convention, or more modernly, Richard Dawson, in his effort to combine progressive folk with a borrowing from Middle Ages tradition. He christens himself the weirder folk minstrel on Target Practise; an olde, twisted tale of restraint and numbness that plays uneasily, teases baroque, and quotes “my mother couldn’t cry when you took her brother’s life” as an orchestra stings.
He liberally leans into both traditional English folk and American primitivism on Heart of Darkness, the percussive acoustic guitars of which provide a clank like nearby cymbals; the charge of an army.
As Cameron sings “you are not the man I took you for” on One Night, with a tender vocal, almost a whisper, that produces mighty melody, the dialogue of his Shakespearean tragedy – with some comedy – springs to life once more and properly admits to the album’s storybook calling.
His living literature peaks with Love Story, on which the anxiety of a relationship crumbling like a Biscoff biscuit is felt as each instrument played sounds as though it’s spilling from Cameron’s guts. It all forms from literal storytelling, during which our hero prepares food, feels sexy-sexy, woos, and subsequently loses it all.
The most important attainment is Picton’s decision to keep a community going following the hiatus of Black Midi. He couldn’t have done it without his strings, assembled by Kiran Leonard, without Charlie Wayne of Black Country, New Road, without Josh Finerty of Shame, or without the entirety of Caroline, of which Jasper Llewellyn and Mike O’Malley co-produce. Collaboration is essential, and Cameron looks good in leadership.
Still, that was but a plan. The plan itself has eventualised as a rather good display of storytelling, musical dexterity (I mean, the guy was in Black Midi) and penchant – or “demand” – for progressiveness. This is Cameron Picton’s new world; an unexpected folk album, with no bad songs but room for improvement in the future, that pens its own new world.
Best track – Actress.
Rating – 7 out of 10
