The Cult is a partnership that has weathered 40 years, and given their unwavering performance in Adelaide last night (28 November) there is no sign of them slowing down any time soon.
Openers Mayatrix & The Psychics were well received as an appropriate support act.Their set of psychedelic stoner jams conveyed a degree of theatrical performance fronted by the titular Moana (as the band were formerly known) displaying a range of vocal performances, from wailing and screeching, into her band's sonic 'wind' and incorporating spoken word and faux rapping along the way.
Following on from last year's overseas 8323 shows playing songs from precursor band Southern Death Cult and early incarnation Death Cult, this year's mammoth 8424 tour had The Cult performing a set that encompassed a 40-year career, although leaning on their first decade.
A shamanistic smoking ritual by a member of the road crew preceded the arrival of the band, core members Ian Astbury on vocals (and mean tambourine) and Billy Duffy on guitar, backed by bassist Charlie Jones and drummer John Tempesta, while an inexplicably inconspicuous Mike Mangan played occasional keyboards out of sight of most of the audience.
After the introductory opening songs 'In The Clouds' and 'Rise', Astbury engaged with the audience momentarily with a simple "howdy" before the band launched into 'Wild Flower', and there is symbiosis as band and audience alike settle into their groove.
While Jones and Tempesta are almost workmanlike, and Duffy wrangles his guitar, Astbury is undeniably the captivating centre of attention with his stylised dancing during the intro to 'Mirror', and pacing the stage performing 'War (The Process)', then, in between songs, standing atop a foldback speaker to reenergise the crowd.
'Ressurection Joe' comes across as funky in this live context, before crowd favourite 'Edie (Ciao Baby)' is performed acoustically with Astbury and Duffy seated on stools (supplemented by Mangan's keyboards from the wings) with a pub choir contributing variably in front of the stage. Astbury is humble and gracious when he comments: "Whoever let out that that little scream – you're feeling it."
This is about as laidback as it gets before the extended blues jam 'Sweet Soul Sister' leads off the second half of the set as 'Lucifer' (with the stage bathed in a suitably hellish glow) breaks up the sequence of songs from 'Sonic Temple', including 'Fire Woman', before the remainder of the set is given over to the band's first three albums.
As the set nears an end, Astbury muses: "Can you imagine doing this for 40 years," genuinely surprised at his own energetic, paced performance and introduces 'Love Removal Machine'. After a hectic outro, the band leave the stage, the audience cheering in a way that any band would want to hear before the tradition of an encore became commonplace.
The evening's coda "takes us back" Astbury remarks before a moody, restrained 'Brother Wolf, Sister Moon' precedes the closing classic 'She Sells Sanctuary', which in this context could be about the band's relationship with the audience.
Both Astbury and Duffy take to mics to give thanks, Astbury lingering onstage after everyone else has left, genuinely touched by the lasting audience response. There were certainly peaks to pick from in a set without a hitch, and the band did not overstay their welcome from an audience swelling with anticipation from the get-go.
