Like, yeah. In the 2011 battle of the vintage girl groups that aren’t really, Cults beat Cat’s Eyes for me. This drifts dreamily before shaking your shoulders, a nice delay and release that’s just this side of overwrought. And like everything else Cults do it’s a pocket-sized drama that never gets too heavy. A pulp fiction.
“Are these Indian?” is the inevitable question. No, American. “I was going to say that.” Those swaying verses are accompanied by slow-motion running, then sulking that the alien in an egg on the kitchen table is a present for someone else.