The Lion's Daughter - Future Cult

By Justin C. I called The Lion's Daughter's last album. Existence Is Horror, "full-bore blackened sludge." Their newest, Future Cult, is built on the same foundation, but with a new twist: synths! I will admit upfront that, because I am an old

By Justin C.


I called The Lion's Daughter's last album, Existence Is Horror, "full-bore blackened sludge." Their newest, Future Cult, is built on the same foundation, but with a new twist: synths!

I will admit upfront that, because I am an old, I often equate heavy synths automatically with 80s music. Fair is fair, a lot of interesting things have been done since that time in terms of electronic music, but that tends to be my basic starting point. With that admission out of the way, I think The Lion's Daughter is definitely borrowing on a bit of 80s nostalgia here. A lot's been said about the slightly-modern-yet-still-retro soundtrack of the hit show Stranger Things. If you've seen that show, I dare you to listen to "Call the Midnight Animal" and NOT think of Eleven traveling to the upside-down to fight monsters. In fact, I think "Call the Midnight Animal" would make a better soundtrack to that show's boss battles, given the ferocity of the hardcore-blackened-prog-sludge that underlies the mean-sounding arcade game synth riff the song is built on.

The Lion's Daughter 2016. Photos © John Mourlas. All rights reserved.

For fans of the band's previous work, I think Future Cult could be a love-it-or-hate-it kind of album. I've seen a few grumblings about it being a "mix of synthwave and plodding hardcore." But even if this new layer to the band's sound isn't to everyone's taste, I think comments like that are overly dismissive. The band hasn't just slapped synths on top of the template from their last album. Basic sonic similarities aside, they've let some of these songs breathe a bit. "The Gown" mixes in a heavy dose of eerie atmosphere with a slower-burning doom feel. I'll admit that this doesn't always work--I think a couple of tracks, including "Grease Infant," fail to build up the necessary momentum for what the band's going for here.

A few missteps aside, though, this is still a tight album at 37 minutes, and if you dug the band's last album, you owe it to yourself to give this one a fair spin. If the band had just redone Existence Is Horror with the chords in a different order, we'd all be bored, but they've taken a somewhat-risky step out into potentially more interesting waters. I'll be curious to see if, down the road, we look back on this as a bit of a transitional album on the band's part, moving into a sonic area that they may not have fully under their control yet. But even so, I think this album still stands on its own as another solid entry in their discography.

The Lion's Daughter - Existence is Horror

By Justin C. I first learned about The Lion's Daughter from their collaboration with a folk band called Indian Blanket. That album, a folk/sludge mash up called A Black Sea, is remarkable, and I recommend it highly to anyone interested in hearing

By Justin C.

Artwork by Paolo Girardi

I first learned about The Lion's Daughter from their collaboration with a folk band called Indian Blanket. That album, a folk/sludge mash up called A Black Sea, is remarkable, and I recommend it highly to anyone interested in hearing just how well modern, dark folk can be mixed with a heavier sound. But now, just a little over two years later, we have a new full-length from The Lion's Daughter, Existence is Horror, and it's an undiluted rager.

This album is full-bore blackened sludge, running at about 40 minutes with no filler whatsoever. Even the intro track, which could easily just become a minute and a half of throwaway material from most bands, has a pulsing heartbeat of distorted bass and a an atmosphere of slow menace. But once the second track kicks in full force with stomping drums and vocal-cord-shredding roars, there's no turning back. The weird thing, though? For an album called Existence is Horror, with song titles like, "Nothing Lies Ahead" and "A Cursed Black End," it's a hell of an energizing listen. Sure, you might want to burn off that energy mostly by breaking stuff, but it's hard not to get fired up listening to it.

The musical pleasures are many. Neurosis is a strong influence, but the songs don't tire me out in the way that Neurosis often does. (Sorry, Neurosis fans. They're really good, but they wear me out.) The songs churn, changing tempos often but in a surprisingly non-jarring way. Tremolo riffs echo and ring before diving down into low, ripping gunfire. I love the bass in particular. Sometimes it bounces, sometimes it doubles the guitar riff like in "A Cursed Black End," and sometimes, like in "Midnight Glass," it takes on a melodic role under a droning guitar part. I love it when a good bassist doubles between rhythm and melody.

All told, there's a hell of a lot of racket here being made by just three guys, but it twists and turns, letting you enjoy it with close attention or as the soundtrack to a rage freakout. Existence is horror is a sentiment that's probably shared by a lot of metal bands and their fans, but albums like this make it a bit more palatable.