After earning critical acclaim with their 2023 debut Hands Across The Creek, Hotel Lux return with The Bitter Cup. Following a lineup change and a period of soul-searching, the South London five-piece have re-emerged with a sharper sense of identity, a more collective approach, and out of this comes a set of songs that feel both organic and personal.
The band’s original pub-rock bite and post-punk grit are still intact, but The Bitter Cup is more mature and introspective. The band has adapted to a new member, multi-instrumentalist Dillon Home, shifting the way they work to become a more collaborative outfit.
Written largely in a Peckham pub run by new member Dillon and in the main recorded live over just four days, The Bitter Cup captures the electricity of musicians working together on a shoestring budget towards a common goal. There’s a looseness and immediacy that gives the record its character: unvarnished, imperfect, and full of energy.
“Encore” sets the tone: a track driven by Lewis Duffin’s distinctive spoken delivery before breaking down halfway into something unexpectedly melodic. Duffin’s vocals soften, almost sweetly sung, before the band ramps back up for a final, explosive chorus.
Next comes the album’s title track, a cover of Billy Childish’s “The Bitter Cup”, which ties the band’s past and present together. Recorded in two takes, it’s the chorus’ layered vocals that stand out, conjuring the chaos of a late-night London pub singalong, a cocktail of raucous camaraderie and theatre. It’s a fitting tribute to the poet that, as frontman Duffin puts it, “started the band,” while also signalling just how far they’ve come.
“The Fear” is vocally playful, told with an overt cockney twang (think a Paul Whitehouse sketch) and a dry wit. A track discussing the ramifications of getting “leathered out of your brain”. Beneath the lyrical unease is a muscular bassline that propels the song forward, busy and intoxicating.
Elsewhere, The Bitter Cup shows a broader palette. “Joy” bursts with restless energy, its punchy rhythm and tone reminiscent of Sports Team, where “Hand of Mine” slows things down, trading post-punk urgency for 90s melancholia. Together, they reveal a band growing more comfortable with contrast, unafraid to pair roughness with tenderness.
“Costermonger” stands as the album’s emotional and thematic centrepiece. Inspired by a BBC documentary about the rise and fall of Deptford Market, it laments gentrification and lost community, a theme that feels as relevant in 2025 as it did decades ago. Musically, it’s tense, loud and busy but threaded with melody, a melee of heavy drumbeats, thumping bass and chiming keys. Duffin’s storytelling delivery grows increasingly strained and off-kilter as the track unfolds, mirroring the unease and frustration at the track’s core.
There’s humour scattered among the grit, too. “Song for John Healy” plays with vocal inflections and looser rhythms. It’s this balance between the heavy and the playful, the political and the personal, that makes the record relate to the modern age.
“Nod (To The Retrospect)” fittingly closes the album, raw and unvarnished, yet quietly reflective. Its distorted guitars ring out with a rough edge while the vocals, cleaner and more measured, bring a sense of calm amid the noise. As the repeated line “oh, like a nod to retrospect” loops over and over, the intensity begins to loosen, the edges soften, and the music slowly carries you out.
It’s not a flawless record; the production occasionally drifts into muddy territory, and the band’s rough edges won’t appeal to everyone. But that imperfection is part of its charm. With The Bitter Cup, Hotel Lux have made a solid second album, one that honours their roots while pushing forward with confidence. It’s ironic, soulful and satisfyingly scruffy; an album brewed in the pub, full-bodied, unfiltered, and best enjoyed loud.
