"Hustle and strut through the city at night."
JD Bellow | NYC | 07/25/2006
(5 out of 5 stars)
"Think about the great moments in rock'n'roll; Tom Verlaine's solo in "Marquee Moon," the beginning of "Sweet Child O' Mine," the riff to "Toys in the Attic," and so on. Right up there is the grand finale of "Love Removal Machine." The "Start Me Up" riff suddenly turns into an enraged rave-up, with Billy Duffy playing as if Chuck Zito were chasing him. And you've got Ian Astbury shouting his ##@# off, contributing one of the greatest "AHHH YEAAAAAAAAAAAAH'S!" ever recorded. It's a thing of beauty. Now imagine a concert full of those moments.
After a four-year hiatus (with Astbury becoming to Jim Morrison what Rich Little was to Johnny Carson), The Cult came back to their beloved "Newww York Citayyyyyy" and completely destroyed it.
Opener "Lil' Devil" seemingly turned the Nokia into the world's biggest strip bar. "Sweet Soul Sister" sounded better than ever, with an extended jam set to Astbury berating security over ignoring a fight. On a particularly forbidding "Brother Wolf, Sister Moon," Chris Wyse played stand-up bass with bow, intensifying the song's phantasmagoric "Mary Shelley's Velvet Underground" vibe.
Another goth classic, "Phoenix," with its copped "I Wanna Be Your Dog" opening, took everyone into a psychedelic hell, and even some of us back to 1986, getting ready for our Bar-Mitzvah's.
Ex-White Zombie drummer John Tempesta was exceptional, giving the material more swing and spine. And Billy Duffy proved that, despite its current neutered state, rock'n'roll still has guitar heroes, and he's one of the greatest.
On "Spiritwalker" and "She Sells Sanctuary," Duffy showed off his alternative/goth roots with swirly U2/Bunnymen melodies, and celebrated his inner Angus Young/Tony Iommi on "Wildflower" and "Peace Dog." "Rise" combined both sides, as he simultaneously channeled Robert Smith and the late Dimebag Darrell. It's no wonder their fan base is so diverse.
Ian Astbury was in prime form, still screaming after all these years, and making unintentionally funny proclamations like "Songs of innocence, songs of experience." And yes, they ended with "Love Removal Machine," which would probably not fall under "innocence."
In '89, Astbury sang, "Hell's Kitchen is a crazy place." While times have changed, it's nice to see The Cult haven't. Long may they wreak havoc."