The Cult

(Roadrunner)
by Paul Lee

In spite of hearing from El Editor and others that The Cult‘s self-titled album blew, I grabbed it anyway. Why not? The lower the expectations, the better the possible surprise. I am happy to report the album rocks and harks back to the Love days. Even though Ian Astbury chopped off his distinctive ebony mane, he kept that wonderful wail (no Samson syndrome here). It seems they’ve found more of themselves. Sure, a major identity crisis hit Billy and Ian, but it may be resolved this time around. Putting progressive, psychedelic, and hard rock influences in their stew, The Cult come out with balls and intelligence.