Eades are great storytellers. Their debut studio album Delusion Spree is packed with characters and lyrically creative retellings of life’s ebbs and flows. Paired with raw, lo-fi instrumentals, Eades have a sound which is personable and down-to-earth. That’s not to say Delusion Spree is a toned-down album in any sense; across it’s twelve tracks, the Leeds-based quintet utilise everything they have in their arsenal to showcase their sonic personality. It’s lively, hedonistic and rocky, an energetic portrayal of who Eades are, and what they have to say.
Take the opening track ‘Reno’, for instance. It’s a perfect introductory track to the album, as it just-about sums up Eades’ strengths in one go. The track is a vivid tale of a man so disillusioned with life he begins starting fires, and is recalled through various characters’ perspectives. Melodically, the song is as restless as its protagonist, erratically shifting pace about two-thirds of the way through, with full-throttle vocals from the band, singing in unison. ‘Reno’ is playful, but addresses an issue clearly on Eades’ mind: our relationship with work, using arson as a metaphoric display of the places downcast workers might go to when they are left weary of their daily 9-to-5 routine.
Alongside this look at life’s grander narratives, the album addresses the experience of being young in Britain on a micro level too. Where ‘Reno’ takes a look at labour politics, Eades also have a lot of fun interrogating the other things that make up our twenties: relationships, our social lives, feeling aimless. ‘I’m Holding Back Your Hair’ is a standout: it’s reminiscent of the feeling of struggling to move from bed, with pain or anxiety sitting on your chest, whether that be after a night on the booze (“that last drink is coming back to haunt me”), or otherwise. On ‘Voodoo Doll’, Eades’ narrator reflects on a relationship where they couldn’t provide enough, or never felt like enough. The song is sombre, posing questions with no answers (“Would you not agree? / It’s a subject I often find myself repeating constantly”), as is always the case with ruminating over the past.
No matter the subject, Eades consistently have a punky confidence in their lyrical delivery. They’re reminiscent in parts of other great indie-rock bands, sure (namely Parquet Courts or Shame), but the band have a fearless charm and assured style, impressive of a band on their debut. In fact, plenty of the songs here, particularly ‘Backseat Politic’, have that specific sound evocative of a busy festival tent, akin to bands usually long-established. In the end, though, Eades are most memorable for the way their songs successfully tread the line between universality and specificity. These songs are about the band members’ own unique experiences, but they’re well-written, relatable, and affecting as a result.