Listen to Oakland Deathrock Outfit Cult Strange’s “Conjuring Feral Angels”

Cult Strange unveils their premier full-length sonorous tableau, “Conjuring Feral Angels.” This auditory odyssey is characterized by a primal fierceness and orchestral gravity, a colossal metallic creation that catapults listeners onto a rain-soaked dancefloor, sodden with the saline touch of transgression. The ferocious guitars yield to pain, becoming torment’s vessels; the fleeting carriers of doubt that fade rapidly, demanding attention yet commanding reverence.

Cult Strange is assured to animate your bones, electrify your pulse, and challenge your eyeliner’s claims of water-resistance. Their wrath-laced, yet irresistibly danceable collection of songs brandish lyrics that oscillate from voicing objections against the cruel procedure of confining children in cages, to impassioned ballads dedicated to vengeful deities who crave offerings of blood. Their avant-garde force ceaselessly lunges forward, exhibits an unwavering resolve as it brazenly navigates uncharted musical realms. They spare no captives, greedily grabbing the hearts and minds of the collective audience by disseminating its haunting melodies and enigmatic persona. This elusive movement fearlessly thrusts deathrock, an otherworldly genre, upon the unsuspecting masses, ensnaring them in its alluring grip.

The album commences with a deranged reinterpretation of a guided meditation, then surges into bona fide deathrock territory with the captivating “Slave to the Algorithm,” a compelling fusion of influences from UK Decay and Killing Joke. The bass weaves its narrative in a sly, purposeful manner, complemented by an intelligent display of guitar craftsmanship. The resonant vocals provide an uncanny impersonation of Peter Murphy, seemingly channeling the ethereal essence of the spirits of Rozz Williams and Peter Steele. A few standouts exist on this masterpiece of deathrock: the dark carnival churns on throughout “A Rose of Chaos” and “De Auro Rubeo” until hitting a fiery, shrieking spoken word detour intro with “Hungry Skin.”  “Restraints” echoes the baritone barkings of Faith and the Muse, with a side of The Sisters of Mercy. “Sages of Djinn” moves squarely back into Bauhaus territory with its rollicking tribal drums and eerie guitar. The outro for the album returns to a staticky sound collage of voices, a strange amalgamation of sound.

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The genesis of Cult Strange can be traced back to the halcyon days of 1989 when its core members first found themselves entangled in a web of aural exploration. However, it was not until the fateful encounter between guitarist Rodney Horihata and drummer Andrej Puhlovski in 2014 that the foundation for the Bay Area’s Gothic purveyors, Ink Bats, was laid.

In the year 2017, the cosmic alignments conspired to bring together not only Horihata and Puhlovski but also bassist Buz Deadwax and the vocalist Aleph Omega. These four distinct souls, driven by a mutual passion for the obscure and the unknown, united under the moniker of Cult Strange. A newfound energy surged through the veins of its members. Together, they embarked on a sonic pilgrimage, exploring the shadowy recesses of the Gothic soundscape and breathing new life into the legacy of deathrock.

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