Interview: Katey Brooks raises her fists for the revolution

As we know them through a historical lens, cults have become synonymous with pseudo-religious notions on loyalty of a tight-knit community, whose beliefs are often perceived as a bit bizarre and that seem to dismantle individuality. Such great films as Rosemary’s Baby, The Wicker Man and even this year’s Midsommar take a grueling framework of faith and heighten it to an almost outlandish, yet terribly unnerving, degree. Even on the most basic of levels, cults operate as an extension of organized religion in many ways but lean heavily into psychological and emotional manipulation as a means to an end. Countless former cult members have come forward over the years with their own tales of turmoil, and soul-pop powerhouse Katey Brooks unravels her own vibrantly-harrowing yarn with her latest record.

Revolute is a self-produced roster of baptismal confessions. Brooks harvests vast shades of classic soul, gospel and ’60s pop for a face-melting, soul-bending storybook that is forever indebted to her past and the transformation she underwent by her own permissions. “Oh, boy, take me to the rainbow / Drench my skin and feed me to the sun,” she crows on “Jeremiah,” overflowing with an organ’s tender light. Other such skin-scorching standouts as “Burn It Down,” “In Your Arms” (“I built these walls to keep away from you / You broke them like a deck of cards,” she weeps) and “Call Out” are as plush as they are visceral and shovel into the cracked skeleton of humanity, the decay souring in the sun as she offers it up on a platter for her own feast. “Take me to the holy water,” she flutters upon the album’s stage-setting opening image, lifted from lead-in “Never Gonna Let Her Go,” which works the gears of religion and humility as one.

“My thoughts and feelings are full of contradictions, and I frequently struggle to understand that. However, the funny thing with ‘Never Gonna Let Her Go,’ and my past, is that I’m not rejecting faith,” she writes to B-Sides & Badlands over email, pinpointing the song’s crucial reflection to her life. “I actually think there’s something really beautiful about faith and humbling yourself to something that you feel is more powerful than you. The rejection is in the dogma, the judgement and the indoctrination of humans. I reject judgement and hate but not spirituality.”

Through spending much of her childhood in a cult, one wrought of toxic mechanics of sheer existence, an understanding of what faith could and should be bloomed from her heart. “The cult had the power to do the absolute opposite,” she corrects, underscoring the damage such cults can have on cognitive growth, “but my mother always encouraged us to explore our inner life and to pray to our ‘guardian angels,’ as she put it, if ever we felt afraid or alone. “She wanted us to feel like we had something we could always turn to, no matter what life brought us. And I am ever thankful to her for that. The cultivation of a sacred inner world and a relationship with the power of this beautiful universe has gotten me through some extremely tough times.”

Even more, the Bristol-born singer, songwriter and musician became even more hyper-aware of the implications “the power of positive thinking or intuition” could have on her way of living. Ultimately, she grew to appreciate the truth she could mine and treasure from deep within herself. “I just know that when I turn to it, I feel supported and I get the answers I need,” she says.

Below, Brooks discusses lessons learned from life’s smorgasbord of lively characters, cracking a shell of honesty and the darkness looming overhead.

Do you harbor any ill-will or resentment to that time of your life?

I wouldn’t say ill-will, no. I try not to hold onto resentment ⏤ they say it’s like drinking poison and expecting someone else to get sick. And I definitely believe that. It’s futile. But I certainly wouldn’t ever want to go back there, and I wish they would stop trying to brainwash people.

You’ve said you encountered many characters in your journey. Is there one character that stands out most in your mind even now? What did you learn from them?

Yes and no, because there were a few, to be frank. I didn’t learn anything directly from those people. Nothing at all. But what I learnt from the experience, and what I think I’ve taken into life is to try to always be kind and treat people as the precious humans that they are. I’m learning to include myself in that statement. However, that’s the biggest challenge.

In previously talking about the lead single “Never Gonna Let Her Go,” you spoke about how hate is never the answer. Was that a lesson you really had to learn, personally?

Not that hate isn’t the answer, no ⏤ I’ve always believed that. But I definitely think that the more I encounter people with beliefs or behaviors I reject or disagree with, the more I learn that judgement isn’t the solution. Recognizing that I know very little until I’ve walked in someone’s shoes is a valuable lesson I find myself learning frequently.

You’ve also said that your most recent work is you finally being able to sing about women and romance. Was there a specific moment that drove you to want to be honest?

I think moving back to London six years ago really helped to catalyze it. Before then, I carried so much shame around my sexuality ⏤ London just blew that all out of the water. The diversity (and acceptance of) is vast here, and you suddenly realize you’re completely normal and okay. If I could thank the city like a person, I would! And so it actually became more uncomfortable to hide than to be open.

How long did it take you to learn to reject shame?

If you mean my sexuality, then I’d say decades! If, in general, then I’d say I’m still learning. It’s a daily exercise. Shame is insidious, and you don’t get warned when the button is going be pressed. You just learn to sooth yourself through it when it comes up.

Why is it that hardship can result in such great music?

Because when you’re in a space of pain you are at your most raw and honest ⏤ that kind of music is beautiful, and most people can’t help but connect to it.

Do you feel all the darkness you’ve endured has been crucial for you, personally and professionally?

I’m not sure how to answer that, because I have nothing to compare it to. What I can say is that it’s made me who and what I am today, and if that person is kind and true, which I try to be, and makes music for people to connect with in a positive way, then I’m grateful for that.

Was accepting yourself quite a journey?

Yes, and I’m grateful to have found my destination. If you mean, in general, I’d said yes, but I’m still on that road. I don’t think you ever “make it.” You just make progress (provided you do the work), and there are peaks and troughs.

Is an anthem like “Never Gonna Let Her Go,” one soaked in empowerment for women and the LGBTQ+ community, pretty important for you to release right now in our sociopolitical landscape?

I think it’s always important. Now, 30 years ago, and in years to come, depending on how much progress we make, there’s still so much to do on this planet where women’s and LGBTQ+ equality is concerned. I’m grateful to at least live somewhere I can be vocal about it, and I’ll do whatever I can.

Photo Credit: John Morgan

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