A THOUSAND MAD THINGS’ CRY AND DANCE IS A DARK, DREAMLIKE TRIP THROUGH HEARTACHE AND REVELATION
Every once in a while, an artist comes along who doesn’t just make music but builds a world you can step into. A Thousand Mad Things is one of those projects. Led by William Barradale, the UK-based musician channels the best parts of post punk, new wave, and synth pop into something entirely his own. His new EP, Cry and Dance, feels like a late-night confession whispered over a dim city skyline — emotional, cinematic, and alive with tension.
Across five tracks, Barradale moves effortlessly between pulse and pause, light and shadow. The production is rich and textured, every sound carefully placed, every lyric heavy with intention. What makes Cry and Dance stand out is how human it feels. It is vulnerable, defiant, and deeply personal, pulling you into its orbit from the very first note and holding you there until the silence that follows. Let’s dig in:
“Wide Awake” kicks off A Thousand Mad Things’ new EP Cry and Dance with an electrifying burst of post punk energy and new wave flair. It is moody, cinematic, and full of attitude, the kind of track that grabs you from the start and never lets go. William Barradale may be the only member of ATMT, but you would never guess it. The sound is huge, textured, and completely immersive, like there is an entire band behind him pulling every string in perfect sync.
The synths shimmer and pulse, the bassline snakes through the mix with infectious precision, and the rhythm carries everything forward with unshakable momentum. There is emotion and tension in every beat, a balance of nostalgia and freshness that gives the track its bite. Barradale does not just draw from his influences, he transforms them into something entirely his own.
Imagine Depeche Mode meeting TR/ST in a haze of neon lights and midnight energy. “Wide Awake” is more than an opening track, it is a statement. Bold, confident, and endlessly replayable, it sets the stage for a record that refuses to sit quietly in the background.
“Girl”, the next track on the EP, slows things down and slips into darker territory. It trades energy for atmosphere, pulling you into a slower, moodier space that feels both seductive and unsettling. The song drips with tension, its eerie undertones building a sense of mystery that fits the record’s emotional core perfectly.
Barradale’s vocals channel early Robert Smith: sleek, damaged, and full of quiet power. There’s a vulnerability in his delivery that makes every line hit deeper, as if he’s whispering from somewhere just out of reach. The track feels cinematic, like it belongs in the next Sin City film or the closing scene of a gritty British crime drama. “Girl” might be more subdued, but it’s no less captivating. It lingers, crawls under your skin, and refuses to leave.
“Local Guys” finds A Thousand Mad Things snapping back into their post punk and new wave groove — and honestly, it is a welcome return. The track feels like a late-night drive through city lights, drenched in emotion and attitude. Every element hits with purpose, from the angular guitar work to the hypnotic synth layers that swirl around William Barradale’s voice. It is sharp, stylish, and absolutely locked into that signature ATMT mood.
Lyrically, Barradale leans into introspection with a raw, almost confessional tone. When he sings, “I love the way it hurts. If they could only see. The other side, the other side, the other side of me,” it cuts straight to that familiar ache between self-awareness and surrender. The delivery feels deeply human — not polished, not perfect, but honest in a way that sticks with you.
“Local Guys” blends melancholy and motion, pairing its emotional weight with an infectious rhythm that will keep you coming back. It’s moody, magnetic, and one of those tracks that quietly burrows into your head and refuses to leave. Expect this one to live on repeat for a while.
“She’s on the Run” pushes the synths to the forefront and lets them take full control. The track opens with a pulse that feels alive, pulsing like a heartbeat under flickering neon lights. It’s sleek, dark, and cinematic — the kind of sound that could soundtrack a late-night chase through rain-soaked city streets. The synths don’t just support the song; they lead it, twisting and building in waves that feel both hypnotic and dangerous.
Fans of She Wants Revenge will devour this one. It carries that same seductive menace — cold on the surface but burning underneath. Barradale’s vocals glide over the production with a detached confidence, giving the whole thing an effortless cool. The songwriting is tight and deliberate, full of clever shifts and subtle turns that keep you guessing right up to the final note.
There’s something addictive about “She’s on the Run” — a mix of swagger, mystery, and motion that keeps pulling you back in. It’s one of those tracks that feels like a story in motion, and every time you hit play, you notice something new hiding in the shadows.
“My Car” closes out Cry and Dance with what might just be A Thousand Mad Things’ best track to date. It’s intimate, haunting, and drenched in the kind of yearning that sticks to your ribs long after the final note fades. Lust and longing drive the song at every turn, wrapping around the melody like smoke. The emotion here feels lived-in — not a passing feeling, but something deeper, something that lingers.
The songwriting is razor-sharp yet effortlessly poetic, balancing vulnerability with poise. Barradale’s delivery feels confessional, almost whispered at times, as though he’s revealing something he shouldn’t. The atmosphere is lush and melancholic, filled with the kind of synth textures and emotional tension that fans of Choir Boy will instantly recognize. The influence is clear, but Barradale makes it his own, giving the sound a darker, more modern pulse.
It’s the perfect closer — slow-burning, cinematic, and emotionally devastating in the best way. “My Car” doesn’t just end the record; it completes it. It’s the moment where all of Cry and Dance’s themes — desire, distance, introspection, and release — finally collide into something unforgettable.
From start to finish, Cry and Dance feels like a masterclass in mood and emotion. William Barradale has built a world that exists somewhere between heartbreak and euphoria, where the glow of neon light meets the shadow of late-night solitude. It is music that does not just sound good, it feels lived in, the kind of record that carries weight and meaning.
Each track shapes that atmosphere in its own way. The highs shimmer with confidence and precision, while the quieter moments pull you inward, exposing something raw and deeply personal. Barradale moves between sounds and textures with complete ease, proving that his vision reaches far beyond genre. The result is an EP that finds balance between intimacy and power, delicacy and drive, creating an experience that stays with you long after it ends.
Cry and Dance is both a statement and a confession. It is dark, beautiful, and unmistakably human. By the time the final notes of “My Car” fade into silence, one thing is certain: A Thousand Mad Things is not just a project to keep an eye on, it is one to feel.