The last time the UK rockers visited our shores was in 2011 where the band treated us to their Love album in its entirety. It seemed only fitting that the band would return to play their magnum opus Electric in much the same manner, in its “entirety” followed by a whole bunch of ‘Cult classics’.
To say you could feel the electricity in the air, excuse the obvious pun, is putting it mildly.
Melbourne quintet, Beaches, opened up the night’s festivities with what appeared to be one incredibly creative and lengthy jam of stoner psychedelic drone.
For around 20 minutes, the hypnotic set had the small but appreciative audience stunned with their use of minimal vocals, repetitious yet captivating bass lines, avant-garde drums rounded out by a three guitar wah-pedal assault on the ears. Beaches are a sheer force of brilliant ear damaging melodic noise. A very impressive set albeit a tad too short from a band that clearly has a lot more to offer.
The room started to fill up as hometown heroes, Redcoats, took to the stage to great applause as they treated the punters with their blend of early ’90s grunge meets Josh Homme’s desert sessions. Packed with a solid repertoire of riffs and catchy tunes, it’s no wonder Redcoats are garnering the attention they so well deserve. A solid set of memorable songs from a band who will go on to do our country proud.
The anticipation for the The Cult was high and once Billy Duffy appeared on stage followed by his partner in rock, the Jim Morrison-esque rockstar vocalist known as Ian Astbury, the entire venue erupted in cheers. Within seconds the opening riff to Wildflower started and they were off. With people fist pumping and moving to the beat of the music, the first noticeable flaw was Astbury’s voice.
Where’d it go? What was once the voice of a great rock n roll front-man had suddenly become tired and effortless. The band sounded great, even if all you could really hear was Duffy’s guitar for the most part and in saying that, he sounded incredible. His guitar tone was perfect. He played each song with such a cool swagger and style and hearing those iconic solos and riffs live was no doubt a wet dream for every musician in attendance.
As each song was played, Astbury’s voice did improve and let’s be honest here, Electric in full was more like Electric almost in full, omitting their cover of Steppenwolf’s Born To Be Wild and replacing it with Zap City, the B-side to their Lil Devil single.
The interaction between Astbury and the audience was kept to a minimum which may be a blessing in disguise as his ridiculous on stage banter about oral sex made no sense whatsoever. Whatever joke he had attempted just seemed lost on the gig-goers. They may be rockstars but they’re not Steel Panther to which such banter would have actually made sense, kinda.
Once Electric was done the band leaped into a whole slew of hits including the hugely melodic Rain, the heavy riffage of Rise, the hugely popular She Sells Sanctuary and the anthemic Sweet Soul Sister, which strangely and quite sadly didn’t really sound like Sweet Soul Sister until it hit the chorus. Not forgetting to include a handful of new songs from their latest album, Choice Of Weapon, The Cult bashed out Honey From A Knife, Lucifer, and Embers and they were all well received. A sign that the band still have the knack to write a solid tune.
The band left the stage and returned with an encore including the classics Nirvana and Spirtwalker before finishing with Sun King, the only other track played from their Sonic Temple album which seemed like a unique choice over the more popular, Fire Woman.
There is no doubt about it, The Cult are a great rock band. They are armed with a song-writing duo in Duffy and Astbury that continuously pen flawless albums. They have a fantastic backing band that deliver 100% on stage. Unfortunately when it came to this show, it seemed a little hit and miss. While Duffy’s playing is note perfect and it was no contest that he stole the show, Astbury’s vocals at times sounded lost and bored, and his strange in-between song on-stage comments weren’t helping.
Regardless of these drawbacks though, Astbury can still play a tambourine better than anyone.
The Cult Setlist
