Cleopatrick – Fake Moon | Album Review

Shaking things up from their 2021 release Bummer, Canadian duo Cleopatrick is trading the gritty and grungy for retro games consoles and overt existentialism. Their sophomore album Fake Moon shows another side to what these musicians can do, proving they're no one trick ponies.

It’s not called a sophomore slump for nothing. Industry pressures and fan expectations can hinder the creative process. Rather than chase that dragon, Cleopatrick have decided to pave a new path. Uniquely incorporating bit-crushed guitars and glitching vocals early on it’s clear this album has a vision. There is a dreamlike aura to this record, complimented by crescendoing cymbals and introspective vulnerability in the lyrics.

Album opener ‘Heat Death’ is fair warning this album is a different soundscape to previous projects. Although slower and more relaxed than fans may have expected, it is still endearing. The introduction of ominous feedback towards the end of the track acts as a reminder, it’s still a Cleopatrick record. Second track being their single ‘Bad Guy’ offers some familiarity to those keeping up with their releases. With clear influences from alt-rock icons Radiohead.

The album lacks the punchiness heard on Bummer, however, they have kept the essence of their sound in their lyrics. This is unmistakable  in  ‘Hammer’ with the melancholic opening lines “Push me out the way, sordid new world order, put me in my place.”  An inclusion of an instrumental interlude track ‘Softdrive’ certainly gives some processing time. It’s the middle of the album and at this point acceptance is setting in, this is a new sonic endeavour. This interlude feels necessary as unfortunately the tracks do blend into one another at times. There aren’t many that jolt the listener’s attention.

‘Big Machine’ then offers a bit of clarity for the new experimental direction the band chose to take. Offering a speedier tempo in comparison to its more chilled, lo-fi counterparts. while also including the lyrics “I don’t want to be part of your big machine.” There are two choices when a second album is released, to try to recreate the magic and sound of the debut or explore their sound and identity as a band. They have said “We’re just trusting our creative compass.” Adding “- I tried to write Bummer 2 at first – It wasn’t coming out honest.” This is what gives the album its integrity. Their ability to trust the creative process and create something with a different artistic vision, indulging in the freedom to experiment.

Influences from Radiohead weaving throughout, combined with playful 8-bit and lo-fi undertones, it’s an album that isn’t trying to be something else. Set aside preconceived notions on what box Cleopatrick fits in based off previous releases, because they don’t belong in any. It’s best to take this album for what it is, an elegant thought provoking collection of songs that feel like a warm blanket on a rainy day. This is a band who are unafraid to trust themselves, creating what they want to hear.