Cult With No Name - X Into I
Review by Karl Magi
Overall Album Impressions
Cult With No Name’s X Into I mixes Erik Stein’s unique vocal style with thought-provoking lyrics and a richly varied instrumental palette. The end result is music that draws me into an introspective journey that is full of depth and complexity. I am glad to be taken along on the ride as the album unfolds.
Erik Stein’s singing is the centre point of X Into I for me. He has one of the most distinctive voices I’ve heard in a while and it works well with the album’s songs. His voice has clarity and a unique timbre that can deliver tenderness or less positive emotions equally. His vocal delivery is an ideal match for the lyrics on this album.
Lyrical strength is another highlight on X Into I. The songwriting is confident and the words are well-crafted. The lyrics explore the fractured terrain of humanity’s psychology as they touch on depression, deceit, greed and desire. I enjoy the way in which the songs mingle personal struggles and broader social commentary as they unfold.
I enjoy the mixture of synthesized elements with more organic instrumental sounds on the album. I am especially enamoured of the string sounds and the piano because they bring a layer of expression to the music that the synths alone wouldn’t. There’s something intensely emotional in those more acoustic sounds that I find compelling.
My Favourite Songs Analyzed
“All In The Mind” begins as razor edged, rebounding bass pulsates in tumbling flows as gentle chords rise and rounded synth notes bubble. Piano chords radiate calming emotion as the bass pulse and slapping percussion touches.
Erik Stein’s voice is refreshingly clean and clear, carrying out over smoothly slipping piano as the drums and bass shape the song. Soft light flows from the piano and the warming synth background. The vocals are emotive as the piano dances out, carrying a soothing and melancholy melody as the bass throbs.
The chorus carries a tinge of hurt in the vocals as rebounding bass is cut by taut string-like synth and enfolding chords rise. Soft-edged, bubbling synth slides through as the piano combines energy and a slightly pained feeling.
“Nothing to see here, nothing to fix” is how our narrator begins the song. He adds that it isn’t anything that is predictable. There’s no place for him to turn or pill to take because “nothing I taste acts as an opiate.”
The storyteller points out that while the troubles may only seem to be in his mind, battling them is what defines him. He says that “the struggle’s real and it’s going down the bone” as he asks to be taken home.
He reiterates that everything may seem to be in his head, he’s “too weak to even throw you a line here.” His sense of fear is real to him and it won’t let him be, but he adds that he should have known it.
If the struggle is all self-inflicted, the narrator wonders how it can be real and be in control of how one feels. He points out that he’d offer friendship and support “but don’t we just know that I’m the last resort.”
Swirling, interlocking synth notes create a creamy, floating feeling cut by sharper-edged sounds to start “Scars.” Guitars growl as the string-like, metallic synth curls through while Erik Stein’s distinctive voice carries the spiky melody.
Rounded synth flows delicately as misty sounds swirl behind it. Erik Stein has an energetic quality in his delivery as orchestral strings swell up with tranquil sensations. The vocals delve deep as the piano dances, chords creating a yearning and hopeful sensation.
The bass briefly drops out and a string section fills the music with peaceful feelings. There’s a touchingly expressive quality in Erik Stein’s voice as the full piano tones surround it and the solid percussive pulse drives the song. Strings and piano form a energetic, but tender melody that dreams and aches.
The storyteller looks at the scars of too many lonely nights. He’s “gazing at stars” as he sits in the gutter he calls home. As he picks “through shards” he finds the one that will cut him bone deep.
Our narrator challenges the scars that encompass all of the “different ways that I can hurt” from the cradle to the grave to do their worst. Although he has been beaten until he’s bruised, he says there are still “chances to refrain.”
Now the situation has become more than he can chew and “it’s coming back up again.” He scans through available medications and manages to end up with one that will “screw my head.” Our tale’s teller says that his scars “bear arms” but also have old charms.
He sees “through the looking glass” a future vision. He says that he’s been saving up ahead in order to “disappoint almost everyone.” Now he makes a move “through the bars” to confront “a guy that might just break my arm.”
“Reigning Cats and Dogs” opens with a solo piano that skilfully imbues me with wistful emotion before smoothly trembling drums and solid bass adds support. Erik Stein’s voice is cool and limpid while a string section adds depth. The piano slips through and a snare drum keeps shaping the music.
Erik Stein’s voice exudes encouragement as rough-edged, synth pulses while delicate strings intertwine and dense bass supports the song. The vocals have sharpness to them now as piano chords undulate and shimmering synth creates a filigreed pattern. Bouncing, hard-edged synth rhythmically pulsates, the piano shades lighter tones with darkness while Erik Stein almost chants before silence falls on string-like synth
An unspecified storm is about to hit as the song begins. Our narrator intends to deny the truth when that storm hits. He’ll also deny whether “it’s me or you.” He wants to know who it was that “sponsored this.” Now he’ll build a shelter from the storm, pointing out that it isn’t because “I’m afraid I’ll see in another day if it’s better.”
The storyteller says that the things he has seen won’t “shake me from deepest sleep.” He’ll still escape back into his dream where darkness can’t “reign over me.” He says that “they might try to control me” but there are still truths to be discovered if you “trade in facts for lies.”
The song concludes with him telling people to "take a look outside, watch the rivers rise, watch the boats capsize.”
Plaintive violin carries a wonderfully elegiac melody to begin “I’ll Spend Nine Lives With You.” Gently rippling piano notes slip through in tender motion as the strings hurt. Erik Stein’s voice is smooth as it captures the emotion in the lyrics as piano washes in lightly touching waves.
Throbbing drums pulsate as ringing chimes flicker and the piano adds texture and melancholy expression. The violin melody touches my heart as darker cello adds extra emotional depth.
Piano supports Erik Stein’s world weary voice as the violin’s caramel tones mingle with a brighter string sound. The chorus drifts with a deep need as glimmering high notes ring out before silence falls.
This tale’s teller speaks of facing up “futures that are only in disguise.” He speaks of looking up into the other person’s eyes as he falls from the balcony. His desire to climb ever higher is expressed but as a result the narrator is “rarely looking up to the skies.”
Our narrator finds himself headed to war, only armed with the “thought that you’ll be waiting somewhere just to save me once I’m shot.” Now he’s stuck crawling below the other person but failing to keep up.
Now the storyteller speaks of spending nine lives with the song’s subject with whom he’ll “sink into the blue” nine times. He realizes that eight times, the other person will “pull me through” but not that ninth time.
He talks about spending nine lives where he is and “nine times we’ll ignite this affair.” Sadly only eight of the nine times will see the other person staying.
Similarly he feels that he’ll make the leap but he ends up missing the final jump. His lack of judgement makes him square up to strangers instead of running and he concludes that “if fortune’s for the brave then come find me when my luck’s begun.”
“(P.S and P.PS. the Prospect of) PTSD” starts off as wildly wandering, croaking synth is joined by popping snare drum and steady bass throb. The piano dances through, warming and uplifting notes spinning out as the unique vocals move in.
I enjoy the way in which the vocal melody enfolds my ears as the drumbeat smoothly jumps along. Creaking, flitting synth undulates as piano trickles through with a laid back feeling. The lead synth’s sharp edges are blunted by gilding piano as a snare drum adds an easily moving beat.
Erik Stein’s voice has a distinctive feeling with a clarity that delivers the lyrics well. The piano glows hazily as it carries the slightly mournful, but still energetic melody. Now the drums skip along as a background tone swells and the vocals move before the piano trips along and silence falls.
Our narrator speaks of being in a situation in which one needs to “gather in every single emotion” because they’re about to hit the floor. It seems like there’s nothing left to give but at that moment “then there’s more.” He talks about hearts beating with “crumbs of comfort” that are tough to trace. He adds, "To laugh or cry? One second you’ll never erase.”
The storyteller points out that the p.s. and p.p.s to the situation is “the prospect of PTSD” that is reaching for everyone. People spend nights and days as they turn over “things that they can’t unsee.” He says that one begins to lose the battle to free their memories from the PTSD.
The song’s final post scripts speak of the PTSD soon being “paired with panic” that he wishes would “stop sending reminders to me.”
Elastic synth bounces tautly as “Snake Oils” comes into existence. A lightly washing background sails in while drums add direction and bass supports everything. Soft-edged synth rises in slipping lines as Erik Stein’s voice radiates calm while drums and bass press the music forward. The chorus climbs confidently as the pastel motion in the background swirls while the rebounding lead synth moves through.
Erik Stein’s voice effectively carries a subtle seduction as the airy backing synth intertwines while steady drums and bass shape the music. Propulsive motion fills the tightly springy synth as rounded notes mingle in a sliding flow. Erik Stein’s clear, expressive voice calls out and the song fades into quiet on rubbery synth vibrations.
If we seek the truth, what’s the cost of that seeking? Our narrator points out that “truth’s an inside job” and not what people think it is. He adds that “you just got to search hard’ but not listen in the least.
The storyteller reassures us that we can trust him but he reminds the audience that truth doesn’t come for free. However if you “try this elixir and see” you will be able to have a taste of conspiracy.
Now we are asked by the narrator to “take the snake oils and run” as we wait to recover. He says after we’ve taken the snake oils we can leave because “you can’t suffer what you don’t believe.”
This tale’s teller says that truth is his. He asks the audience “can’t you read the sign?” He queries if we’ll buy into his disguise before reminding us that “the overlord of the flies” will be landing at any moment.
“It’s all about control” our narrator says. People fall down his rabbit hole but “for all the people that I troll, for all the lies that I sold” he won’t be held to account. He encourages us to take his snake oils and leave because you “can’t catch what you never believed.” As the song ends, he tells us to imbibe his snake oils and run while we are all “still waiting for recovery to come.”
“You Are What You Eat” commences with a shadowy, muscled piano chord that’s joined by a lightly ticking drum. Pizzicato strings trickle and sing as synth with a mournful feeling joins the drifting piano. Erik Stein’s voice aches and adds pained emotion in an ear-pleasing way.
The string section and peaceful piano contrasts with the dark lyrics. Bass contributes weight as flickering strings drift in and woodsy, caressing cello adds a melancholy shading. The vocals have a tremulous quality as the strings slide through.
The cello stabs with a burst of energy before the piano glistens and angular violin moves in. Erik Stein’s voice exudes deep expression as shaker percussion moves. The strings arc now, mingling pain and a tinge of hope, as the ticking drum keeps pulsing. The vocals fade before the piano also goes quiet.
The narrator addresses the song’s subject, telling them that they’re “consuming all of the seeds that you believe venerate you” in the hopes that they will make that person immune to every disease.
The other person’s indulgence is “the stuff of nonsense” because it’s not the pills that make them strong. Our storyteller cautions them that “you are what you eat, but baby not for long.” He adds that they are seeking out “a taste that will make it all work out.”
Now the song’s subject is stirring and blurring facts that have been rejected by science. Their obsession should be a life lesson because the pills don’t strengthen them. Once again the narrator repeats that “you are what you eat, but baby not for long .”
As the song ends, the storyteller calls for the other person to “come feed the hungry beast (and) concede, just surrender to the feast.”
String-like synth drifts out above a gargantuan drumbeat as lush illumination rises to start “You’re On The Run (but not on the move).” A wandering, enfolding piano melody flows out as flashing notes leap out through the music. Strings rise with a tragedy tinged melody that touches me deeply.
Erik Stein’s strong, unique voice carries a melody holding pain in it as piano chords easily ripple. Shine suffuses the background as the piano flows. Now the main melody carries longing and loss while Erik Stein’s emotive voice carries the powerful lyrics above gently shaping drums and rich bass support.
Guitar carries a gentle melody that slips past in mellow notes. The string section yearns as it unfolds and the background luminosity rises around the other musical elements. Erik Stein’s unique voice carries the song to an end.
As the characters in the lyrics fly away, the storyteller asks the audience to watch them wave goodbye as they “leave a trail that runs dry.” He reminds us to pray or look for reassurance that they won’t keep following us or “shift this chaos off shore.”
Our narrator cautions the audience not to think “they” are done because they only just got started and “victory’s anyone’s” to have. He adds that “you might think we’re through” but they are coming for us. We’re all just “on the run, not on the move.”
We need to take a moment to reflect as we “drag your troops back West” and are convinced we came out on top because people may think wars are won but “they mostly carry on through proxy actions steered by some top guns.”
Conclusion
X Into I is synthpop with soul, nuance and emotional depth. Cult With No Name creates layered music that makes me think, feel and allows me to be carried away on it. I let the lyrics run through me as Erik Stein sings and the musical tapestry weaves itself around my mind.
