At the Spark, a few songs in, Ian Astbury casually added that The Cult played the Big Day Out about 30 years ago and it sucked. Understandable. Those rush on and off multi-band situations can put you off your game, and there is pressure on the crew.
Opening with the single In the Clouds, the sound of the band was immaculate with punch. Never a small achievement at the echo chamber Spark.
I’ve strongly caned the Electric album since 1987. It was a great flip of the bird at the sound alike path that popular music was on.
I’ve never seen the band live though. Tonight, I was captured by what a great front man Ian Astbury is. As soon as he hit the stage the light poured out of him. He seemed to be in a ritual that centred him and kept the energy flowing strongly. He wasn’t faking it.
He was wearing a black kilt and bandana. It looked very cool. He has a healthy obsession with Native American culture. It makes sense why he played with the boys from The Doors. He had lived in North America as a child. He’s got the goods and spirit. He can belt and croon.
An amazing percussionist as well, he was attached to a tambourine for a large part of the night. He played with metronomic accuracy. It had feel though.
Then he’d skip in bounds around the stage and do huge mic cable swings like he was warming up for a showdown with Roger Daltrey. It was hard to take one’s eyes of him.
His writing partner and original founding member of The Cult, Billy Duffy, is no slouch either.
He has a Rock’n’roll demeanour with his guitar well hung low. He knows how to work the room as well. With years of experience, he knows how to swing round to the side of the stage and gaze into the wings of the arena.
Beyond that, his riffs and guitar tones are a major part of the core sound. I mean, Cor Blimey!
The Cult started in the early 80’s as Post Punk. On the Love album Billy was one of the early British guitarists that created with drone tones. A single guitar note ringing out behind the others.
He added a bit of modulation and delay for a huge sound. It was best on display tonight when the band played She Sells Sanctuary as their last song.
Along with Robert Smith, Adrian Borland and The Edge, he pointed a finger at the moon. He showed guitar players how simplicity and repetition are a strong way forward in music.
The Cult changed direction under the guidance of Rick Rubin and nailed it. Duffy stepped off his echo pedal and dry crunched a Marshall amp. He wrote great solid chord riffs invested with traditional English rock suspensions. Sounded like him though.
Near the end of the set, the band played Love Removal Machine. Such a great use of words and a great title. Billy’s three-chord chunk riff hits you straight away. A hard thing to pull off.
Much credit to the drummer on Electric, Les Warner. He hammered the drums in a super solid state on the record, beyond even ACDC. He contributed strongly to the change in the band.
Tonight’s drummer, NY’s John Tempesta, nailed this approach greatly. Each drummer in The Cult after Warner carried the baton of solid rock groove drumming.
Tempesta is absolutely the right guy for the band. Athletic and strong without fail.
Off stage Mike Mangun provides keyboards, and occasionally, second guitar. It must be a hard gig to do, but he does it well, and much better to have someone playing in the moment then looping samples.
As the concert moved on, I was worried that Astbury may get frustrated with the crowd. He had been investing every ounce of energy, giving it, but the audience on the dance floor seemed to be in a lull.
Not the audience’s fault. The area was seated. Never a good idea at a rock concert.
I remember the Voodoo Lounge Rolling Stones gig at the Springs was seated. I felt that was a large slide downhill for the concert scene. The security seemed to enjoy reprimanding me for having my foot in the aisle while dancing.
This is a Rock show, come into this, he said.
Slowly but surely, as the crowd heard familiar songs from Sonic Temple, they began to rise out of their seats. As the downbeat arrived on the final song, I got up and gave the band a standing ovation. They deserved it.
Ian Astbury was sharing into the mic. We have done 48 gigs, and this is our favourite.
He mentioned earlier that he wanted to come back here, get his boots on the ground, and eat a shitload of Whittaker’s chocolate. He could do that. He burns calories on stage every night.
As The Cult waved off, Billy said with a grin We’ll see you in the next 40 years. We’ll never forget this.
Ian sat down on stage in a Zen position and meditated. He looked inside. A spiritual and prophetic character.
I got the chills. He channelled the universe.
John Kempt
