Review: The Cult raises ghosts at House of Blues

Geoff Carter

Monday, June 25, 2001 | 1:49 a.m.

I'm having a fair amount of difficulty reviewing The Cult's June 22 show at the House of Blues. I have too much history with vocalist Ian Astbury and guitarist Billy Duffy; the music of The Cult is too thickly ingrained in my high school years. I couldn't hear the band's songs without drifting into memory."Rain" evoked that cool Gothic girl I never quite hooked up with;"Love Removal Machine" reminded me of my first (and last) band;"She Sells Sanctuary" recalled an old club I used to frequent.

And that, perhaps, is where The Cult's genius lies: while Pearl Jam struggled to become the voice of a generation and U2 aimed to confound its generation, The Cult was content to be the true soundtrack of the generation - to play on a distant radio while the group's fans were busy making out or wrecking their parent's mid-size cars.

The point being, the band has stealthily amassed a succession of noisy anthems over its 17-year haul, and at the House of Blues they ran through every one of them - and subsequently through most of my teens, one power chord at a time.

The band sounded great, in any case. Playing in support of"Beyond Good and Evil," the band's first album in seven years and their best since 1989's"Sonic Temple," The Cult proved to be in fighting trim. Astbury's big-hearted wails proved as arena-ready as ever, and Duffy's raucous guitar riffs boomed as loud as a roomful of motorcycles."Fire Woman,""Sweet Soul Sister" and"Wildflower" were perfect anthems, suitable to top-down desert drives or simple keg parties.

We rocked, and remembered. Astbury didn't even have to announce"She Sells Sanctuary," but of course he did, and as Duffy played the opening notes of the 1985 hit Astbury leaned back and closed his eyes. I can only wonder what kind of memories these songs raise for him. I hope, for his sake, that they're at least half as happy as mine.