Go backstage with The Music and receive FREE:

  • Exclusive members-only editorial, charts
  • Our subscriber-only newsletter
  • Members only competitions to win tickets, experiences and more
  • Access to our street press archives
  • First access to our exclusive limited edition vinyl variants

Thank you for being a part of our community! Enter your email address as verification and you'll be taken backstage right away.

Please ensure that you provide a valid email address.

Live Review: The Cult, The Art

"Ian Astbury's cooler-than-a-naked-polar-bear demeanour engaged the faithful."

More The Cult The Cult Profile

Old hands at opening for high-profile international acts, The Art's vintage rock sensibilities and glammed-up overtones sounded the part, albeit featuring fare varying between infectious and pedestrian. Brimming with confidence following new record All In The Mind's release, the Sydneysiders encountered a sizeable early crowd, but received a middling-to-apathetic overall response. Figment Of Your Imagination proved a standout, packing a harder-edged swagger that even the uninitiated couldn't resist.

"No talking, no new crap - Taking Care Of Business - now!" Homer Simpson once amusingly bellowed, channelling many long-time devotees' resentment towards veteran outfits seeking to indulge in fresh material. The Cult's recent records have been solid affairs, which haven't detracted from their considerable legacy, and they've certainly earned the right to not merely be a proverbial hard-rock jukebox when performing live. However, the prospect of the crowd - spanning several demographics, but all primarily present for the numerous hits in the group's arsenal - giving latter-day cuts a fair shake was hampered by a nagging feeling that the British mainstays were going through the motions somewhat when airing recent offerings. This was reinforced by guitar hero Billy Duffy emanating a whiff of mild weariness at times.

That's not to suggest the packed room didn't get their fill, though. Strutting frontman Ian Astbury's cooler-than-a-naked-polar-bear demeanour engaged the faithful, donning shades and exhibiting flashes of the shaman-like energy that helped elevate the band to superstar status during their heyday. Punctuated by an efficient, tight band, glorious opening one-two Wild Flower and Rain had the gathering in raptures. Momentum lagged a fraction mid-set via a laboured Gone, but knocking out fan favourites with aplomb - Lil' Devil, Fire Woman and the inevitable, stadium-sized She Sells Sanctuary - ensured diehards were regularly seen urgently scampering from the bar towards the stage. A 90-minute display containing many instances of classic rock writ large.

Join 'Backstage Pass', our FREE members program for music fans