Please Please You & Brudenell presents... *This is a standing show* My New Band Believe’s debut album began as a fever dream. Delirious in a Chinese hotel room, Cameron Picton was battling through the worst of a sudden illness when he was overcome by flashes of weird imagery and loose ribbons of scrambled text. The musician would later salvage and shape some of these fragments into songs, but the one that lodged most clearly in his mind was the odd phrase, “My New Band Believe.” When it came time to christen his solo project there was no decision to be made; this unwieldy assemblage of words had to be his signature. Picton would be the first to admit that he sometimes cringes over the name, sometimes finding it cheesy and earnest, questionably self-aware, not even fully grammatically correct. But in other respects, he’s never doubted its odd brilliance. My New Band Believe works as a reintroduction and a fresh start, both hyping up its author while acknowledging the collective effort that went into its making. It also serves as an open invitation, a subtle nod that if a listener is willing to meet the music on its own terms, they’ll be rewarded for taking a flying leap into the dark. As the bassist and sometime frontman of black midi, Picton and his bandmates practiced an explosive form of musical world-building, weaving complex story-telling through thrilling passages of controlled chaos. When the group called it quits in 2023, the artist didn’t immediately feel like making a solo record or jumping back into another band. Loose plans to be a rotating collaborator with various London groups à la Jim O’Rourke, including caroline were discussed, even rehearsed, but never fully materialised. It was from this position of a not-quite team player, not-quite bandleader that Picton entered the studio and the seeds of My New Band Believe gradually began to emerge. The group’s debut is a massive and hallucinatory record. It is a collection of music that swerves through