So last night I went to see The Cult playing at Exeter University, (all part of my preperation for my job interview tomorrow.)
Arriving in time to met a friend I sat on the wall outside to wait. No sooner had I sat down than a large group of bikers came outside and joined me on the wall. I decided they were more interested in having a smoke than trying to re-enact the scarey bits from Sons of Anarchy, so I ignored them. The downside of this was that when my friend arrived she didn’t recognise me, apparently she hadn’t expected me to be sitting with a biker gang for some strange reason.
We went in to see the support band. We were lucky enough to catch their final song – all 15 minutes of it. I think they may have to edit it down a little if they want to release it as a single. The two guitarists were the spit of Cousin It from the Adams family, which gave everything a rather jolly air I think.
For those that don’t know, The Cult are a heavy, loud, rock band from back in the Eighties when music was music – not like nowadays. Years of playing ‘loud enough to make your nose bleed’ music had clearly taken their toll;
Ian Astbury, the lead singer hadn’t noticed he was at an indoor venue and mistakenly kept his sunglasses on for the whole show. Although in fine voice, when he talked to the audience between songs nobody could understand a word he said, the whole of The Great Hall just sort of shuffled and looked at each other as if to say “I had someone like that sat next to me on a bus once.”
Every so often he would procur a tambourine to play while he sang, once he had finished shaking it he threw it into the audience. This continued for the entire show, with a seemingly inexhaustible supply of tambourines. It was like watching an infant teacher getting some children ready for a music lesson.
The whole band needed to go off stage for a sit down half way through, win for us, we got to watch a ‘film’ that had an eagle and a rocket and a car. It also had other stuff that I didn’t really recognise, with a soundtrack that sounded like it could have been written by those other famous Eighties rock band Depeche Mode.A bit odd really, if I’m being honest.
After their cup of tea and slice of cake the band came back on stage. Ian had put his coat on, possibly getting ready to walk to the bus stop. The rest of the band had persuaded him back though;
“No Ian, we’ve still got some more songs to do remember!”
“It’s okay, keep it on now, you can go to bed soon.”p>
In spite of the discomfort of wearing his fur collared coat, the band made it through the rest of the show. Who knows, maybe there was a wicked breeze up there on the stage.
Some more tambourine throwing and loudness ensued, with all the old favourites (except ‘Edie’ which is my favourite – oh well!)
All in all it was a grand night out, the crowd demographic was ‘old and bald’ and the music really rocked.