As Ladytron begins to prepare the masses for their first album since 2023 (Time’s Arrow) and their first album since the departure of band member Reuben Wu, “I Believe In You” is the inaugural offering from what’s sure to be yet another masterclass in the electronic genre. And, based on “I Believe In You,” the band has plenty to say on a “subtle dig” level (not that they don’t often have some shade to throw [hear especially: “Destroy Everything You Touch”]). After all, the song is so clearly a worshipful anthem that eerily spotlights a cult mentality, as made apparent in the primary lyrics, “Whatever you are/Oh, I believe in you.” Paired with its accompanying video, directed by the band’s own Daniel Hunt (who also produced the track), the unmistakable “cult homage” of the song can’t be denied.
What’s more, Ladytron has seen fit to release such a track at a time when society (and the U.S. in particular) has never been more susceptible to “joining” a cult (though “being subsumed by one via the internet” feels like the more accurate way to phrase it). However “understated” that joining might be. Though, of course, the most overt one in recent times is that of MAGA, with political cults being the most insidious of all, as much of the brain-having part of the population has noticed in the years since the Orange Creature first entered the political stage via the 2016 presidential election. And yet, what Ladytron undercuttingly explains with this song is that so many people are desperate to believe in something, anything that might have “the answer.” To life’s woes and to life itself.
Opening on a shot of a group of people lying on the ground blindfolded in a red-lit room that’s filled with speakers, the allusion is clear: these are cult members who have drunk the proverbial Kool-Aid. For, obviously, the infamous Jim Jones remains the benchmark for just how far into the depths of (self-)destruction a cult member will follow their leader. The blindfolds, in this case, act as clear symbol of how those “ready to worship” will enter into that state with metaphorical blindness, unable to see the obvious red flags in front of them. For, that’s the thing about being “primed” to join a cult: you don’t want to notice any of the warning signs. Are only too ready to embrace whatever “your leader” has to say so that you don’t have to think too much about things yourself.
In the following shots of the cultish group, they begin to showcase their coordinated, rhythmic movements, totally in sync with one another while still blindfolded. A haunting repetition of “ah-ah-ah-ah-ah” before Helen Marnie drops the first verse only adds to the cultish aura radiating from the track. As the video progresses, superimposed shots of Helen Marnie (looking ever more like Shirley Manson) singing select lyrics from the song are shown. Some of the more choice ones including, “Like, like a message on the breeze/Like a signal from the tower/Like a memo from the man/Oh, I believe in you.”
The red-lit set (which looks like it’s the type of room one might see on USCSS Nostromo in Alien) only adds to the increasingly sinister, devilish feel of the video, with the “worshippers” becoming more and more, shall we say, “taken” with the rhythm the further along the track progresses. Their movements, thus, looking almost involuntary, as though responding to some unseen force…or master. Indeed, the escalation of their dance moves ends up coming across like one of the most intense silent discos ever.
The intentionalness of Ladytron’s mostly repetitive—like a mantra—lyrics, the ones that repeat, “Whatever you are/Oh, I believe in you” seeks to heighten the sense of “I Believe In You” being an homage to cults. Or rather, to a person being so ready and willing to “receive” something…or someone. So desperate to believe in anything, really, that might mitigate the feelings of chaos and confusion that only seem to intensify the more that time wears on.
In between that repetition, Ladytron provides the beauty of similes to better describe the ways in which the people in this video have been made to feel by this unnamed, unseen cult leader. This includes, “Like a bulletin to heart/Like the laughter in heaven/Like a telegraph from God/Oh, I believe in you” and “Like the flutter of a wing/Like the defeat of a king/Tear falling from the past/Oh, I believe in you.” At other moments when the usual chorus is said, addition similes are peppered in like parentheticals. For example, “Whatever you are (like, like the dawning of an age)/Oh, I believe in you (like the birth of an idea).”
By the time the video is about three minutes in, the scenes occasionally transmogrify into kaleidoscopic imagery, only adding the 1960s-esque vibe that’s already being subliminally channeled. After all, that’s when modern-day cults really gained steam, with Jim Jones himself becoming a fixture in San Francisco by way of establishing the Peoples Temple headquarters there in 1965. Then there was the cult of “hippiedom” itself at that time, with oodles of “flower children” defecting from their parents’ homes to join others in the cult of pleasure (sex, drugs and rock n’ roll). This before the Manson Family also turned cults into a very dark, stigma-filled thing.
The kaleidoscope effect becomes even more pronounced as the video draws to a close and Helen Marnie herself at last appears in the same scene (rather than her face merely being superimposed over them) as the “revelers,” revealing herself at last to her cult followers—their unseen leader all along. And yes, she is dressed very much like a cult leader, complete with her black brimmed hat and “smart” skirt suit.
Tapping each of them on the head one by one, they fall to the ground, indicating death by devotion. Again, just like the Jonestown Massacre, which is very much a prominent influence on the semiotics of the video. But at least, in this case, the followers are “dying” for the rhythm, rather than some crackpot white guy.
