The Cult's Glorious Three

You really don't need anything else except a stray cut or two

The 80’s were a lot of things musically, and no band really illustrates that more than the kings of trend following, The Cult.

Starting out as Death Cult, a name taken from singer Ian Astbury’s old band Southern Death Cult, the Cult formed when Astbury hooked up with guitarist Billy Duffy and bassist Jamie Stewart. Later, drummer Nigel Preston joined and Death Cult recorded an EP.

Because they were basically into becoming rock stars and not some post-punk arty band, they decided to become just The Cult as that would ‘lessen’ the gothic influence and make them more marketable. Well, it kinda worked.

Their first album, Dreamtime, was full of a lot of Native American and other indigenous symbolism (Astbury was quite interested in indigenous cultures, despite his UK birth and Canadian upbringing). It got some spins in their native England, but really was more of a commercial non-starter. As a record, it’s blah, as the band was floundering around for a sound and style that would fit them.

They found it soon enough.

“Resurrection Joe” was a stand-alone single that took some of the elements from the debut, and added in a touch of psychedelics and a funkier more-pronounced bass. Astbury also found his voice, so to speak. It was a winning combination, even if the single didn’t do gangbusters on the charts.

That single led right into Love, the album that broke them everywhere. I have to credit my fraternity brothers Paul and JC for turning me on to “See Sells Sanctuary” the first time. The band is really going for a psychedelic hard-rock 80’s vibe here. Astbury’s vocals are strong and powerful, Duffy’s guitars are wah-wah crazy, and the rhythm section of Stewart and guest drummer Mark Brzezcki (from Pete Townshend’s band and Big Country) (except on “She Sells Sanctuary” where the mercurial Preston slammed the sticks) hold everything down on the back end.

You probably know “Sanctuary” and “Rain”, but the album is deep. There are five absolute bangers of deep cuts and some meditations like “Revolution” make this album a total event. “Nirvana”, “Big Neon Glitter”, “Love”, “Phoenix”, and “Hollow Man” are tracks you need to crank up, and then the singles put it over the top.

So, that’s one great album down. Time for a follow-up. Preston’s back on board - the mates are all here. So back to the formula?

Oh, no. Not for the Cult.

Rick Rubin produces Electric, which scraps the wah-wahs and spiraling psychedelics and the Cult becomes more of an AC/DC type band with Astbury’s vocals out-hair metaling the hair bands. Power chords and flamboyant vocals ruled, and any deep meditations on anything important go out the window. It was just time to ROCK!

Did it matter that “Love Removal Machine” was non-sense? How about “Peace Dog” or “Electric Ocean”. There was crotch rock in “Wild Flower” and “Little Devil”, and Astbury’s “yeah-uhs” are intoxicating.

In fact, the track “Aphrodisiac Jacket” has this as one of the lines in the verse: “Plastic fantastic lobster telephone”, which sounded like Astbury wrote nonsense lyrics that fir the rhythm and was going to update later, and didn’t. For that matter, what the hell was an “Aphrodisiac Jacket”, and did it matter? NO!

Electric was stooopid rock that was more genuine than hair metal, and less pretentious than any goth band going at the time. It was brilliantly placed in the marketplace and the kids knew.

So now with two fantastic records in two distinct styles, what to do for a follow-up. Why, change it all around again. Get more Zepplin-y and proggy with extended songs not just built around short riffs, but longer chord sequences. The result? Sonic Temple.

The songs had longer intros that set the scenes and codas to play it out. Astbury’s vocals are more constrained when the material called for it, but on a track like “Fire Woman” he’s still Ian Astbury.

The revelatory track is “Edie (Ciao Baby)” a sensitive tribute to Edie Sedgwick, one of Warhol’s beautiful people (as sensitive as the Cult can get with strings along with Duffy’s 481 guitar overdubs).

Some of the tracks may have gone on a bit long (“Sweet Soul Sister” and “Soul Asylum” are great but could have used a bit of trimming), and there may be some filler here, but this is three great albums in a row.

They didn’t have a fourth in them.

It was 1991, and the Cult’s new album was hotly anticipated. Mind you, there were some great 1991 albums that shook the damn world up, but there’s no reason the Cult couldn’t continue their run if they produced a great record.

Ceremony came out, and it was…not good Astbury made almost an entire album around his love of the indigenous people, which is fine, if the tunes were great. They were not. It turns out that the band was imploding. Preston was long gone. Stewart left. Duffy and Astbury couldn’t be in the studio at the same time. It was a miserable experience and it showed.

I made a special trip to the record store to buy it the weekend it came out. I also picked up Nevermind, Trompe Le Monde, Ten, and a few others. I was most excited about Ceremony. I played it maybe twice and chucked it into my deep storage, selling it back a few years later for 50 cents or something.

After that, the Cult were afterthoughts, and Astbury was a vocalist for hire (The Doors and MC5 among others). But in their prime years of 1985-89, no band was like the Cult - able to change directions without losing their cache. And to this day, because they didn’t stay with one sound, their stuff sounds fresh. Quite the accomplishment.