My New Band Believe

My New Band Believe plays Cabaret Voltaire, Edinburgh on Saturday 24th October 2026

My New Band Believe is the solo project of Cameron Picton– former bassist and sometimes singer of black midi, a band of such outsized influence that it needs no introduction. After two years of hiatus and work in progress shows, Picton makes his return with a more numerical, less scorching, equally seismic project.

Familiar faces abound with My New Band Believe, too many to name but some headlines for Edinburgh: 7 members of caroline are involved and Mike O’Malley and Jasper Llewellyn are credited as co-producers; Georgia Ellery (Jockstrap, BC;NR) and Kiran Leonard get writing credits; players include but are not limited to: Caius Williams (feeo, crosspiece), Nina Lim (ninush), Charlie Wayne (BC;NR), Josh Finerty (Shame) and there is even a guest appearance from Jack Shep (SNL UK, wanting2becoolhaving2befunny).

The debut record, My New Band Believe (out May 10th on Rough Trade), features a quaqueversal cast of musicians organised around Picton’s acoustic guitar. A far cry from all the tight-knitting, interlocking, segmenting, amplifying and feedbacking of bm records, but in difference lies sameness; and in lessness lies moreness; and the entire spectrum is found on this record.

Take, for example, “love story”– a disarmingly sincere and richly orchestrated ode to a lover. It opens apprehensively, Finn Carter’s Romantic period piano intro pushes and pulls against itself–speeding up and slowing down; hesitating, changing, arpeggiating; and finding finally a gentle, pulsing rhythm which sinks down beneath Picton’s vocals. The arrangement is ‘chamber-’ in the same way that caroline 2 is a folk record. There’s a trickiness and an intensely self-concealing processing that bubbles under the surface. As the second verse comes around, the previously centered vocals spread themselves in stereo, with a slight delay and difference in inflection in both ears. Instruments and additions sneak in and out before you realise what’s happening and a break in the final third of the song suddenly roots it all in physical place. The intimate close mic’ing of the first half is thrown wide to the room–the suite of instruments clatter and morph into a breathy, reedy bamboo sax before creeping back in for a euphoric ending. The music is simple and dense, less and more, different and same, and endlessly, compulsively relistenable.

14+, under 16 accompanied by an adult.