The Cult in DeKalb

The show was incredible. We got there about eight and couldn't sit still for the anticipation--even Dewey, who had a cold from hell, found himself getting charged up with a half hour to go before the show. We had to sit through two bar fights, three beers apiece and a putrid opening act called Like Hell (as in "We play music...like hell; we can fill a bar with fans...like hell") whose rhythm and guitar really wasn't all that bad but whose lead singer looked like a reject from a Bad Eighties Band Reunion Tour. Tso claims he got heckled off the stage, but I'm not so sure--he seemed a bit oblivious to the crowd control going on:

Singer: Hey, that was "I'll Fuck Ya!" Hope ya liked it. How y'all doing today?
Heckler: Fuck you!
Singer: Great, great. They love us in Annapolis--I didn't think the Midwest would be any different!

I got news for you, you Ned Beatty-lookalike-in-a-bad-way--it is.

When The Cult finally came on, they used what I thought was the battle call for the Gungans in Star Wars: Episode I, but now I'm not sure--it could have come from some Native American reference, knowing Astbury. For posterity, I've preserved their playlist here (thanks to Mick, who snatched a taped copy off the sound guy in a fit of drunken bravery):

"Rise"
"Lil' Devil"
"Peace Dog"
"Rain"
"American Gothic"
"Take the Power"
"Edie"
"The Witch"
"Ashes & Ghosts"
"True Believers"
"Wild Flower"
"Fire Woman"
"She Sells Sanctuary"
encore at this point, where I scream myself hoarse yelling "Get back on stage you fucking limeys!"
"War"
"Sun King"
"Love Removal Machine"

Kim claimed that it took Astbury three songs to get warmed up, but I'm of the opinion that he hit some difficulty with the sound guy--I saw him (the sound guy, that is) scrambling wildly with the controls at one point, during which Astbury's voice was heard, then not heard, then not heard again. The sound guy was probably drunk, or maybe it had to do with that blonde in the mini-skirt who climbed out from underneath his desk wiping her mouth disgustedly. (I had a balcony seat, you understand.)

Astbury was the height of hilarity: "I was a little worried when I came through town," he commented after congratulating the crowd on our "soul" and "passion." I never did learn what he saw that worried him so--maybe the degutted East Lagoon or something. When songs like "Peace Dog" and "Edie" came on, I found myself abandoning the album version of the song ("Baby-baby-ba-ba-ba-baby-eeeahhh!") for what Astbury would manage to sing in a crowded, smoky bar ("Baby-ugh.") I've only seen three Cult concerts in as many years, and I'm already starting to forget the original versions and remember the live versions.

All of my vigor for the band couldn't be matched by Mick, who went down to the floor to cheer and yell, and cop a feel too, for all I know. Guess I'm getting old.

After that, drinks underground, followed by a bit of Matt's party, followed by a bite to eat at ATC. I didn't get to bed until 5:30 a.m. or so and then woke up early, around 10:30, thinking I would eventually crash and sleep, but I never did. Kim and I went to a Christmas party in Sycamore and I got even drunker off six or seven bottles of Killians than I did after four or five monster-beers at Otto's.

Watched Billy Madison today (stupid movie) and Affliction yesterday afternoon (haunting). Now I've finally got to finish the grading I've been putting off all weekend, pick up some Vitamin K tablets for Kim (she smashed her fingers on a windowsill looking for some dumb bird or mouse that we keep hearing) and maybe scare up a copy of Jedi Power Battles or something. Tomorrow I've got to look for a job.