TV Priest - Cartoons
Post-Punk / Indie Rock / Alternative Rock / Experimental Rock – London, UK – November 6, 2026 – AMK / Kartel Music Group
Every so often, an album immediately brings back the feeling of discovering a particular band for the first time. Within my first listen to Cartoons, the third album from London-based TV Priest, I found myself thinking about the glory days of The The, particularly the extraordinary atmosphere Matt Johnson created on Soul Mining and Infected.
It is a comparison I don't make lightly. There is something about the combination of restless rhythms, darkly expressive vocals, experimental arrangements and socially observant songwriting that brings those records to mind. TV Priest have their own musical identity, of course, but Cartoons captures some of that same nervous energy and emotional intensity that made The The's music so compelling.
Released on November 6, 2026, through AMK and Kartel Music Group, the album marks a significant development for a band initially associated with the more abrasive side of Britain's post-punk revival.
Led by singer Charlie Drinkwater and guitarist Alex Sprogis, TV Priest emerged during the early 2020s with a sound built around angular guitars, forceful rhythms and lyrics confronting the political and social tensions of contemporary Britain.
Their debut album, Uppers, released through Sub Pop in 2021, was a particularly urgent introduction. Its raw guitar sound and confrontational vocal delivery reflected a period of considerable uncertainty, while Drinkwater's writing combined political frustration with observations about everyday life.
The following year's My Other People revealed a more reflective side to the group. The arrangements became increasingly nuanced, and the songwriting began exploring vulnerability, relationships and the difficulties of human communication alongside the band's established social commentary.
Four years later, Cartoons takes that evolution considerably further.
Developed primarily by Drinkwater and Sprogis over two years, the ten-track album introduces a more collaborative approach to composition and recording, with additional musicians contributing to a broader and more experimental musical palette.
The familiar post-punk guitars remain, but they now coexist with programmed drums, electronic samples, field recordings, piano, violin and even manipulated birdsong. Basslines influenced by electronic and dance music bring an unexpected rhythmic dimension, while the arrangements frequently move between abrasive intensity and more atmospheric, almost cinematic passages.
This is where my comparison with The The becomes particularly relevant.
On albums such as Soul Mining and Infected, Matt Johnson demonstrated how post-punk, electronic experimentation, memorable melodies and political observation could come together in music that felt simultaneously unsettling and strangely accessible.
TV Priest approach some of those same musical possibilities from a contemporary perspective. Drinkwater's vocal delivery has its own character, but his ability to move between agitation, vulnerability and almost conversational intensity occasionally recalls Johnson's distinctive approach.
The connection extends beyond the vocals. There is a similar interest in combining rhythmic experimentation with guitar-driven songwriting, allowing electronic textures to create tension without sacrificing the emotional impact of the compositions.
Musically, Cartoons also suggests connections to Radiohead, particularly their more experimental recordings, alongside the melodic sensibilities of R.E.M., the melancholy of The National and the rhythmic energy associated with Foals.
Yet the album's most compelling quality is the way these influences are brought together to reflect the concerns of its lyrics.
Much of Cartoons explores the increasingly complicated relationship between human beings and technology. Drinkwater examines the effects of social media, digital surveillance, endless information and the constant presence of screens in our daily lives.
The songs reflect a world in which the boundaries between reality and representation have become increasingly difficult to distinguish, while privacy, attention and genuine human connection are constantly challenged.
There is a sense of exhaustion running through these observations, but also an underlying desire to recover something more personal and meaningful.
“The Mud Never Dries,” chosen as the album's first single, is one of the clearest examples of TV Priest's expanded musical direction.
Combining the aggression of post-punk with drum and bass influences, electronic samples and spoken-word passages, the song moves beyond conventional guitar-rock structures. Its restless arrangement creates a sense of instability, with rhythmic changes and contrasting textures reinforcing the tension of the performance.
It is an intriguing example of how the band have become more adventurous without losing their original intensity.
“Love Song (A Good Kind of Weapon)” introduces a darker, more introspective atmosphere, suggesting that the album's concerns extend beyond its social and technological observations.
Throughout Cartoons, questions about love, family, grief and memory appear alongside the more confrontational themes, revealing a band increasingly interested in the emotional consequences of contemporary life.
“Just So You Know” is particularly interesting in this respect.
Beginning with string arrangements before developing into a more powerful indie rock composition, the song combines an engaging groove with a stronger melodic emphasis.
Drinkwater has described it as a metaphorical breakup with technology, reflecting on the compulsive habit of scrolling through digital content and the attention we gradually withdraw from the people around us.
It is a subject that feels uncomfortably familiar. The idea of treating technology almost as an unhealthy relationship gives the song an emotional immediacy that extends beyond conventional criticism of social media.
The title track, “Cartoons,” brings many of the album's central ideas together.
Its restless guitars and insistent rhythms accompany a reflection on digital overload, moral confusion and the increasingly surreal character of modern life.
The title suggests a world in which everything has become exaggerated, brightly coloured and endlessly presented for our consumption. Serious events and trivial distractions compete for the same attention, creating an environment where it becomes difficult to distinguish what genuinely matters.
That sense of absurdity gives the album much of its character, but TV Priest are equally interested in the personal consequences of living within such an environment.
The experimental arrangements reinforce these ideas throughout the record. Electronic rhythms introduce an almost mechanical quality, while acoustic instruments and more intimate vocal passages provide moments of warmth and humanity.
The contrast feels deliberate, reflecting the tension between our increasingly technological surroundings and the emotional connections we continue to need.
What I particularly appreciate about Cartoons is the confidence with which TV Priest have expanded their musical identity.
There are still moments of angular guitar-driven aggression that connect the album to their earlier work, but the greater emphasis on melody, atmosphere and rhythmic experimentation makes this a considerably more varied listening experience.
And I keep returning to that initial impression of The The.
It is especially apparent in the album's restless character, its combination of social observation and personal uncertainty, and the way its arrangements can feel simultaneously urgent, theatrical and deeply human.
Fans of Matt Johnson's work, particularly Infected and Soul Mining, may recognise something of that spirit here. The connection is one of atmosphere and artistic ambition rather than direct imitation, and it gives Cartoons an additional appeal for listeners who appreciate that particular period of British alternative music.
With Cartoons, TV Priest deliver an ambitious and absorbing third album that takes their post-punk foundations into more experimental and emotionally expressive territory.
Across ten compositions, the band explore the contradictions of an increasingly connected world through a compelling mixture of abrasive guitars, electronic rhythms, atmospheric arrangements and thoughtful songwriting.
It is a record that rewards attention, particularly as its different musical layers and lyrical ideas begin to reveal themselves over repeated listens.
For anyone who appreciates the inventive alternative rock of The The, the experimental approach of Radiohead or the darker, more introspective side of British post-punk, Cartoons deserves a place on your listening list.
An album that genuinely deserves your attention, and one of those releases that makes you want to return to it as soon as the final track has finished.
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