By Tony Jones 
It’s Not a Cult: Joey Batey’s Bold New Novel: Review
This odd novel will certainly not be to all tastes but is a love letter to those of us who love obscure music and not care whether their favourite band has a billion plays on Spotify. In fact, the lesser known the better! I have watched many bands play to tiny audiences and these shows often mean much more to me than those held in huge arenas. I love being one of the “select few” or being into a band before they became successful, It’s Not a Cult throbs with all sorts of musical vibes similar to this.
A Horror Book Review by Tony Jones
Joey Batey’s debut novel It’s Not a Cult features two of my favourite horror topics, cults (obviously!) and music. I will be interested to see how much media attention this incredibly quirky novel attracts, as the author has featured in many television shows, including a major role in The Witcher. He is also the singer and songwriter for indie folk band The Amazing Devil, I’m unsure how successful or established this band is, but I guarantee it has some influence in the musically knowing, It’s Not a Cult.
It was great to read about a band in (far from a standard horror novel) that is not heavy metal or have the standard Satanic references you often find in the genre. Instead the band in It’s Not a Cult are so far off the beaten popularity track they do not even have a name! It does not exactly say what they are, but I envisaged them sounding akin to a seventies prog rock band which is out of step with modern popular music but are quite happy doing their own thing. They play the back room of pubs, open mic nights and support slots, usually to a tiny audience who do not know, or care, who they are.
This odd novel will certainly not be to all tastes, but it is a love letter to those of us who love obscure music and not care whether our favourite band has a billion plays on Spotify. In fact, the lesser known the better! I have watched many bands play to tiny audiences, and these shows often mean much more to me than those held in huge arenas. I love being one of the “select few” or being in a band before they became successful. It’s Not a Cult throbs with all sorts of musical vibes similar to this.
There are relatively few musicians who have made such original transitions from acting to writing. The best example I could come up with is John Darnielle, who sings in The Mountain Goats, but has written three seriously good novels; Wolf in White Van (2014), Universal Harvester (2017) and Devil House (2022). Joey Batey and John Darnielle should definitely hang out. Hell, I’ll buy the first round.
On face level the story sounds pretty dumb but when you dig deeper into the peculiar world of social media it becomes scarily believable. Could a band become famous (or infamous) without ever playing to more than a handful of people in the backroom of pubs? When it comes to ‘The Band With No Name’ (TBWNN) this is most definitely yes and it all begins with a horrible act of violence.
TBWNN are playing a gig somewhere in the Northeast of England to their customary handful of drinkers. Out of the blue a couple of punters with their faces painted white repeatedly smash the face of one of the friends of the band into a table.
This is recorded and posted on the internet, quickly going viral. What follows is the incredible escalation after the pub where TBWNN play their next gig is burned down. Forget Ozzy Osbourne, the notoriety of TBWNN goes through the roof and soon they have the attention of millions of weirdos from across the world. How this unfolds is really what It’s Not a Cult is about and I loved every ridiculous crazy minute of it.
But why did TBWNN explode? The answer lies within the interpretation of their lyrics. If you know anything of prog rock the lyrics can my mystical, telling tales of ancient battles, princesses might appear alongside goblins, dragons and gods. Everybody had very big swords! Back in the day the fans of seventies prog rock stars Yes, Rick Wakeman, King Crimson, Pink Floyd and many others regularly debated the cryptic messages or deeper inner meaning of their albums.
TBWNN have much of this, their lyrics have created their own myth based around the ‘Solkats’: fictional northern gods of small things, of mishap and mayhem. However, once the millions of new listeners discover this music online it explodes and obsession deepens. But when did anybody say any of this was real?
I chuckled heartily, as music can truly do this to anybody slightly impressionable or simply seeking a scene or cause to follow. As I teenager I gazed at the cover of Led Zeppelin albums, wondering what Jimmy Page’s monicker ‘Zoso’ really meant, whilst trying to decipher the lyrics of ‘Stairway to Heaven’. If you have ever been obsessive about music then this book is for you. If music is not your thing, then much of this book will go over head.
The story is generally seen from the point of view of drummer Al, who obsessively films everything, and follows in the coat tails of vocalist Melusine and writer/guitarist Callum. All the characters were outstanding, colourful and relatively happy in their musical obscurity. Callum’s reactions to this overnight ‘success’ was truly priceless and one of the highlights of a truly mischievous novel. Set entirely in the Northeast of England, this bleak and often remote area is beautifully brought to life.
Elsewhere, there are other memorable characters, including a disillusioned American influencer who starts following their every word, abandons promoting beauty products and instead becomes a world authority on TBWNN. The Solkats myth continues to grow, and I was wildly entertained in a brilliant finish which was a million miles away from the recent Glastonbury festival. The alternative ‘fest’ staged by the Solkat devotees was much cooler and wildly funny. I would genuinely love to hear what TBWNN sounded like!
Tony Jones
It’s Not a Cult by Joey Batey
Callum, Melusine and Al play in a band with no name, baffling audiences in terrible pubs across the northeast of England with their ‘sound’. Their songs tell the stories of the Solkats: fictional northern gods of small things, of mishap and mayhem. Absolutely no one knows what they’re on about. But they believe in their music, and in each other. And they’re happy.
That is, until an act of violence at a pub gig goes viral, they catch the eye of a disillusioned influencer and suddenly go from having a cult following to having a cult, following.
All the Solkats want, Callum insists, is to have effect on the world. But as fans from LA to Australia flock to Northumberland, and each gig becomes larger and more lawless than the last, this effect starts to feel scarily. real. Which poses the question: if the Solkats really do exist, which is it more dangerous to anger: a wayward group of elder gods, or your biggest fans?
Because gods and cults both demand sacrifices. And one way or another they’re going to get one.
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