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The Cult |
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Love=Flash
Electric=Metal Sonic Temple=Suicide |
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| "Fire Woman" is still undeniable, every bit as good as "Love Removal Machine" or "Wildflower", if not, "She Sells Sanctuary" and "Revolution". I think the heavy rotation airplay of the "Fire Woman" video was when we went to see the Cult open up for Metallica. You should've seen me in the big hoop earrings, blue eyeshadow, and purple scarves; with Little Dave in his black dagger leggings and leather boots, and the deathrock babes in the black lipstick and purple turbans, waiting in line, to see the big rock show-surrounded by legions of stonewashed metalheads, just mystified by our make-up and gypsyish fashion sensibilities back then, most of the mullets were just fascinated that we had the bottle to look like we did in the daylight though. It wasn't until the Cult came out and sucked shit, that anybody really got that hostile towards us. Clearly, we were not there to see Lars and James, y'know? Back then, Metallica audiences were rabid, man. This was before their nineties velvet-suited, Dave Navarro style make-overs and the new indian dood with the braids. This was like the peak of "Cliff "Em All" and "Alcoholica" t-shirts. |
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Chicks even really actually hung pictures of
these dudes in their bedrooms, back then, giving false hope to acne
ridden, non millionaires. I could never fathom it. Megadeth were
really big, too. And Anthrax. So, Billy and co. came out
rockin' but Ian was not in good enough shape to sing AND
dance at the same time. He sang about every fifth line, like Roth
in the old days, or fat Vince now. He mainly kinda stood in one
place, and flailed his hair around, hoping this unabashed display of
literal "headbanging" might help warm the hateful Nuremberg Teens over to
the cause of love and electric revolution. No such luck, the Cult,
along with my friends 'n' me, were all lucky to get out of there alive. I
don't know if even Axl and co. coulda done much better, though.
Those nazi hick Metallica creeps only wanted to see Metallica.
Those people hate rock'n'roll, man. They just want thrash metal
slabbage with cookie monster vocals growled by apeish men who take the
Nuge very, very, very seriously. I preferred the Cult and
Sisters Of Mercy and Guns N Roses. Metallica shoulda
stayed hairy and scary in the sweaty t-shirts and the ripped jeans,
though. I hate phony makeovers even more than I hate drummers who wear
shorts. Except for Rick Allen. As long as he ain't beating up his
old lady, let that guy do whatever he wants. The thing about Sonic Temple was Ian was having a hard time psychologically processing his success, his old drummer, Nigel, was dead from a heroin o.d., he wasn't used to having money or having to sort of budget which temptations he should pursue. Rockstar status has to be a headfuck, especially for people who grew up poor, or have any sort of unresolved issues, and emotional problems. Billy, on the other hand, hell, he wanted to be Skid Row (*He nearly succeeded on "Ceremony": Play "Heart Of Soul", back to back with, "I Remember You"!) Billy was really into the money, the drugs, the pussy, no sweat. Ian had to try and make everything all complicated, by asking all these philosophical and metaphysical questions all the time; and the band, the management, the label, and hangers-on, were having none of Ian's soul searching, and wanting to stay true to his punk rock roots horse shit. Horse Nation, meet "the kids of a coca cola nation". |
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It all seem to happen at once, and this was it-their bigtime shot at having hits and big houses in the Hollywood Hills, swimming pools of cocaine, and ethereal little supermodel ingénues, so obviously, now was the time to push the power ballads, stay whip-skinny, and whore for glory. Ian tried, y'know, "Ciao Baby" was a great little power ballad, even if most Middle American metal mooks knew fuck all about little Miss S., Ian's hot girlfriend, Renae Beach, who was a peach, portrayed the girl in the black tights in the epic hit video. This was in, fact, what got yours crudely into the decade(s)-long, embarrassing habit of saying "Ciao" instead or a more appealing, simple "goodbye" before hanging up the telephone. So friction started happening between Billy's camp- who just wanted to make even more money, and shag even more groupies, and the Ian and Renae camp, that read books, sought the counsel of medicine men and seers, and who were having theological and moral dilemmas, and respecting all life by saving fish thrown onstage, as so |
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memorably, and tragically, documented in
their VH1 "Behind The Music" episode. VH1 never said
what band it was, that dropped the fish on Ian, resulting in the first of
many more break-ups to come, but I always kinda figured it had to be Metallica, right? I think it was
in Toledo when Ian announced that Mother Love Bone singer Andy Wood
had
died, and dedicated "American Horse" to him, that we all started to get kinda uptight that our little
flash metal heyday was ending. Kurt Loder
called the house to tell us that our hero, Stiv Bators, had died, sometime
soon after that. I was bumming. |
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| The self titled CD with the goat on the cover is my fave Cult record, besides Love. Beyond Good & Evil was a return to former glory, a shame it didn't sell, because the writing was really back on par. Billy has a couple different side-bands with corny singers, nowadays- including one with Mike Peters from the Alarm ("68 Guns", "Rain In The Summertime", so God Bless 'Im!) and another one with Jerry Cantrell from Alice In Chains, as well as Nikki Sixx' favorite kick-dog, poor John "The Crab" Corabi. Billy Morrison and Matt Sorum are the ideal foils for Billy and Ian, our fave Cult sidemen since Jamie and Haggis left the group. |
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| Myself, I'm not particularly interested in Velvet Revolver, and Steven Adler belongs in Guns N Roses, so I wish everyone who really rocks would all come to their senses at once, and realize that THE CULT is Matt's rightful home, at least in my perfect rocknroll world. Recently, Ian's been taking guff off that bigmouthed keyboard player, Ray Manzarek, who is even chumping him with the writing duties for the next Doors album, saying they prefer to utilize "American Poets" (McClure and Carroll) and longtime Cult followers are having a hard time understanding why Ian would wanna participate in this Doors 2000 karaoke shuck and jive. "Not the Lizard King But An Incredible Simulation!" I dunno what Ray pays, but shit, Ian, you are IAN ASTBURY, you don't need to lower yourself to doin' no tribute act to NOBODY- not even Mister Mojo Risin'....C'mon, man. THE CULT! Fuck the Doors Trib. Get Billy on the phone. I'll call 'im, if you need me to. Also rumour has it Ian's been dabbling with Trent Reznor on some collaboration. THE CULT, Ian. THE CULT. | |
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-IAN ASTBURY NEEDS TO CONTACT HIS PSYCHIC FRIEND: Resurrection Joe, c/o
the Sleazegrinder |
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This
is where it all Ends