Yeah, sure, “L’il Devil” was the big and ballsy Electric-era return of the Cult you’d want, the first off the top, but it wasn’t until the third, “Rain”, that I remembered how I used to parse all the lyrics from the LOVE album and that it’s been 24 years since I actually met
the band. And kid-kissed Billy Duffy. And used to take a picture of me with Siouxsie and the Banshees eye makeup being clutched by then-bassist Jamie Stewart, into exams for good luck. Back when I was a total Cult fan.
So here we are now: at stage left, Duffy playing a few key chords, looking like Gordon Ramsay and mugging well for the feral former-rockers-turned-suburbanites in attendance. The guitar sounding goodly, actually. Onward McDuff(y)!
In the middle, between some other three guys, Ian Astbury, crotchety, over-Americanized (remember when the Cult were English?), hair tied back, old vest with fur trim, sunglasses on, effin’ and blindin’ and tellin’ people to stop waving around “fucking ugly” footie scarves, and stompin’ and shakin’ the tambourine, like a diva who doesn’t want photographers in the photo pit. (See a] crap pics from the back and b] awesome iPhone photo.). But that’s the Cult, innit? They were kinda divas then, divas now. It’s rock, and for one night, I’ll take it. COS HE’S A WOLF CHILD, GIRL, HOWLIN’ FOR YOU…
…And to hear “Nirvana”, “The Wolf”, “Phoenix”, “Firewoman”, “Spirit Walker” and gahhhhhhhhhh “SHE SELLS SANCTUARY”? The songs don’t need to stand up to time, they just need to stand there for a minute while I remember my childhood.
“Thank you so much for coming out and supporting this band,” said Astbury, dropping the diva, before launching into the last song of the set, a kinda crunchy “Love Removal Machine”. And I think he actually meant it. \m/
SET LIST – Vancouver, Commodore Ballroom, August 22