The Hamilton Place authorities finally managed to regain control. Before they could play their encore, The Cult had to ask the frenzied crowd in front to move back. naturally, they obeyed, and the hall was returned to a state of normality.
A general feeling of awe over the power of music and the common bond between the fans wavered in the air. That was on the surface of course. While some ecstatic enthusiasts pulled on his belt, the vocalist's face didn't hide the glimpses of contempt well enough.
"It's just like the Beatles," he proudly proclaimed. Astbury may have been joking, but he probably didn't remember that the Beatles didn't induce the mania by any cheap tactics.
Nevertheless, The Cult put on a very fiery and energetic show, performing such favorites as Nirvana and Love. They had the audience on their feet and dancing before the first three notes of their introductory tune rang out.
The crowd was even treated to hearing Electric Ocean being played live for the first time. This one promises to be another success for the band as it contained some stylistic string bending from Billy Duffy. The obvious focal point though was the lead singer, who was very well versed in the art of crowd seduction.
Of course, The Cult's material and musical skills were equally responsible. However, looking like a Bohemian gypsy with his Jagger-like sensuality, Astbury handled the fronting duties expertly. You-know-who's bellybutton will not be the only famous one in the near future. Fortunately he's not just another pretty boy, his soulful vocals carried each tune masterfully and he even strapped on a strat for Resurrection Joe.
Though fairly promising, with a strong stage presence, Cats Can Fly were less than an adequate opener. They pleased a few in the crowd, (mostly their friends) but their cutesy, danceable synthesizer melodies didn't go over too well with the fans of the heavier, guitar-based Cult.
Having just heard the Cult's new Rise single, I had a flood of memories come back from my first and only Cult concert. I saw the Cult at Hamilton Place in Hamilton, Ontario with several friends in what was my last year of high school. Opening band was Cats Can Fly, one demi-hit wonders (recall "flippin to the A side", anyone?). They made some comment about loving Hamilton and not being able to wait to come back, prompting shouts of "no!, please don't!" from the 20 or 30 of us who bothered to listen to them. Once the hall filled for the Cult, it was non-stop noise. Ian got the crowd to rush the stage at one point, and they had to announce a roll back before they'd let the encore begin. No doubt, the best concert I saw in the 80's.