Cults: Another Band Whose Time Has Come

So let's see: I've been ragging on the influence of cults, and how they ruined my marriage and music career, for five years now. And in that time, I've watched the cult-escapees Girls emerge, and now there's this band - just called Cults - on the charts.

And, of course, I can't forget Anton and my friend, Jeffie, in The Brian Jonestown Massacre (see the video below) though they came out (and were obliquely addressing the subject) long before I understood how these monsters were infiltrating my ex-wife's mind, destroying my life and career, and leading to the untimely, and unnecessary, deaths of others.

Anyway, I'm not sure if this is enough to say there's a movement yet - yet - but it's definitely enough to take notice and say, "It's about time."

No Matter What Happens (Everything's Fine)

"On April 6, instrumental post-hardcore supergroup Red Sparowes will issue 'The Fear Is Excruciating, but Therein Lies the Answer,' which, you probably could've guessed from the name, is a concept record. And boy, is it a deep one.

'The concept for this record basically centers around the human need to find patterns or meaning when there may not be one,' explains bassist Greg Burns, a former member of hardcore legends Jasta 14; Red Sparowes also feature Isis guitarist Bryant Clifford Meyer and Emma Ruth Rundle of the Nocturnes. 'One example we use is, there was this mass German bombing during World War II that was completely random. No pattern to it. The U.S. spent all this money to predict where they would bomb next. They thought they'd cracked the code, but there was no pattern.'

The album also addresses the group think mentality of doomsday cults. 'One song's about these groups who're finding these end of the world days that come and go, and the world's still there and this idea of always being able to change and alter one's perception of that meaning,' he explains. 'So, if there are all these signs pointing to this day being the end of the world, and if that day comes and goes, instead of a cult saying, "We were wrong. We screwed up," they'd say, "God recognized what we were doing and changed the day." People always change things to suit their own meaning. We change our lives to make sense around these perceived truths.'"

-- Chris Harris, on a musical group that's getting a grip on cultism - The Brian Jonestown Massacre and Girls are two others inspired by it - while the rest of you continue carrying on in this manner, denying your behavior (like he's talking about someone else), thinking it's merely Noisecreep.

Cults + Whores = Girls (Not Women)

"The music of Girls is too beautiful to ignore. The melodies are pure California pop, the lyrics as simple and affecting as those of Spiritualized's Jason Pierce (of whom White and Owens are big fans). Full of tales of heartbreak and friendship, Girls' debut album, Album, comes across like a lo-fi Pet Sounds. It has an innocence that countless bands try to capture, a sense of childlike otherwordliness.

As Owens talks about his experiences growing up, it becomes clear where that has come from. He was born into the Children of God cult, the religious group formed in California in 1968, which gifted him with a childhood and adolescence he calls 'pretty hellish'.

'Some of the things the cult did were so fucked up,' he says. 'There was this thing called "flirty fishing", where the women met men for money. The cult basically convinced them it was fine to be hookers. It was like mind control - the women believed it was a good thing to do because they were physically showing these men they met the love of God. My mum had a lot of terrible experiences from that. I was there. We'd be hitchhiking our way around Japan or somewhere crazy and I'd have to wait in hotel lobbies for her. Sometimes we'd have to run away from violent people and she'd be crying, saying she didn't like her life.'

As you'd expect from a cult that emerged in the hippy era, the days were at least filled with music, albeit religious music. Owens says certain acts would become popular within the cult, such as a young couple called Zac and Shelley: 'They wrote love songs to each other and recorded them on tape. I was a big Zac and Shelley fan. They did great harmonies.'

According to Owens, the cult's founder, David Brandt Berg, only allowed members to listen to the pop music he liked. 'He had these tapes called My Old Favourites, full of Elvis and the Beatles. We learned to play all those songs because us kids were desperate for any kind of secular culture. A lot of us made mixtapes off the radio, too, and passed them around. There was sort of an underground scene with kids passing around tapes, although if you got caught it was a big deal.'

One famous member of the cult was the former Fleetwood Mac guitarist Jeremy Spencer, who gave Owens his first guitar, which he now plays when recording demos for Girls. It was also the guitar Owens played when he was sent out to busk to earn money for the cult. But the musical legacy of Children of God is not what sticks in mind about it.

'My friends there have been dropping like flies,' he says. 'I've known several commit suicide over growing up there. I was a huge fan of this one musician called Jeremiah Singer, and he has since hung himself. There was another guy who wrote country music - he called himself Micah Teddy Bear. He's died as well.'

Is he angry about all of that? 'Oh yeah. I was angry for a long time.'

-- Tim Jonze, interviewing another group of music artists with cult experiences - the Brian Jonestown Massacre and I are others - in The Guardian.