Agora Theatre, Cleveland, Ohio Audio Recording Exists

Opening band: New American Shame

The Agora Ballroom was hot. Wait, that is an understatement. This place felt like it was right next door to hell. We were dripping sweat while standing still, waiting for the opening band ... The New American Shame. These guys took the stage and took us for a ride. Johnny, (the vocalist), was nothing short of a dynamic powerhouse. His vocals were strong throughout the show, despite the fact that he was roasting alive under the lights. The band's sound grew stronger and tighter with each number. Jimmy Paulson, (wearing a Ramones t-shirt), was dealing out lead guitar riffs and solos which would make Angus Young look twice. The bass, rhythm guitar and drumming were absolutely outstanding. This is a band to keep an eye on in the future. After The New American Shame left the stage, we waited for what seemed like hours for a technician to repair a Ian's monitor. Johnny had been standing on this monitor, (reminding me of Bruce Dickinson), during American Shame's set. While we stood waiting and sweating, some of the roadies attempted to keep us entertained, by offering backstage passes to girls willing to expose themselves. Finally, the stage was darkened and the crowd was chanting for The Cult. Looking around, I could see that the Ballroom had become completely filled. We were situated a little right of center stage, against the railing. The Cult opened the show with a pounding version of Lil' Devil. The Ballroom erupted and we were off to the races. To be completely honest, I can't begin to recall the exact set list. The band tore through three songs, before Ian even slowed down enough to say "Hello Cleveland !". By this time, the place was even more hot and humid than before, (if this is possible), and Ian was dancin' like a cat on a hot tin shack. The Cult were in top form. Ian was, without a doubt, having a fantastic time. He was all smiles, dropping to his knees as the crowd blew him away singing back to him. The rest of the band were also looking and sounding fantastic as they ripped through song after song. This show was almost a Sonic Temple tour. I'm not complaining, as The Cult have no bad songs in their repertoire. I do wish that we could have been treated to some songs from Ceremony. I believe that we were also exposed to two brand new titles. One I believe was called Rising. (Absolutely another masterpiece of rock and roll.) According to Ian, The Rock And Roll Hall Of Fame should be renamed ... The New American Shame. We traveled two hundred miles in blinding wind and rain for this show. I would recommend traveling a thousand miles in a raging blizzard ... if necessary. Do Not Miss This Tour.

Bob and Patty Best - Lee-Best@Prodigy.net

Hot, it was. Bob and Peggy are absolutely correct in that recollection. Sweat was dripping off all human faces within the crowd. I say human because, well naturally, there were some freaks there. The opening band that night did one thing right, and they did it, presumably, long before their ungodly gig on 7/31. That one thing was this: they titled themselves The New American Shame. The lead singer appeared in a Jim-at-Miami costume, and proceeded to perform just as well. Come on guys, it was hotter than being on a gas sample collection detail on the surface of the sun; what's the need for the leather pants, long-sleeves, shades, and panner's hat? Their sound was flawless. No doubt about that. But sound isn't hard to reproduce when one is immitating the entire, and unfortunate, eighties gland-band "please help me, I'm so horny" geekazoid rage. I saw one dude in that entire crowd that was absolutely "involved" in the music. Imagine a blond Woody Allen pounding his fist, out of rythym I might add, into the air. Wait a while we did, for our heroes. And I do believe that roadies roamed the masses searching for chicks in hopes that they could get the shamefull band a shot of leg. My buddies and I headed down to the stage, armed with beers and twelve years of anticipation. We had never seen The Cult live. We had no idea what they might look like now, or what they might sound like. We only hoped that they were clean of rock byproducts and could still play. Jesus, were we pleased. We began center stage left and saw them walk out. Though it was still dark, we could see Ian and..."Hey man, his hair's long." For some reason, that meant something to us. We were so close and so excited, that I personally can't remember the first three songs. My buddy has a better memory, and maybe I can convince him to write in. Anyway, by the end of those three songs, everyone was soaked from sweating; stabbing their arms into the air, waving to the bad, screaming "Fuck yeah!" and exchanging hot potatoes with whoever was behind, in front, to the left or right of them. Ian looked aged, but definitely still Ian and definitely well in spirit. Billy looked as though he'd been hitting the gym twice a day for the past decade, and a tattoo parlor here and there. His left arm, from shoulder to elbow, is one giant tattoo. He played his ass off and was awesome. He barely had time to look at the crowd and I can only remember him taking his gaze off his guitar in order to see where he was walking. The rythym guitarist was a mystery. I have no idea who he is, but he knew what he was doing and did his job well. The bassist...as we had read...was the "original." We still don't know if that's true. Can someone fill me in? I can say that he was having the time of his life. He smiled constantly, exposing a few missing teeth on the right side of his mouth and looked in our general direction for the duration of the concert. I would have to say that he was having just as much fun as any head-banger in the crowd. The Cult executed a perfect song arrangement. I was specifically hoping for Edie (Ciao Baby), Sun King, Fire Woman, The Phoenix, She Sells Sanctuary, Wild Flower, Rain, Sweet Soul Sister, Peace Dog, Love Removal Machine, Revolution, and some others that I can't remember right now. I got all of those for my meager fee and more. I can't forget to say something about the crowd. It was the most pleasant experience I've ever had at a concert. I won't BS and say that I saw Hendrix on "The Morning," but I've seen my share and I have to say that everyone there was very pleasant and forgiving of the elbows they were knocked with and the bumpings they received while others were jamming in a personal world. We all shared the steamy stew and loved those we came to see. There was one dork that pushed my buddy away when the crowd serged to try and touch Ian's hand (my friend got a brush), but he was probably just concerned about being crushed. That's cool. I do know this: for the encore, our subjects of admiration played She Sells Sanctuary and The Phoenix (in that sequence) and absolutely stuck those two songs. And for The Phoenix, that bizarro rythym guitarist actually took his jacket off and relaxed a little. (Maybe because he only had three chords to hit and a pedal to work while Duffy worked gnawed his fingers off while executing the constant solo?) Hey folks, it was one hell of a show. And when they were done, the drummer tossed his sticks, the bassist and Duffy their pics, and Ian...the tamborine. And soaked and fulfilled, we merged with the mainstream and split that awesome arena (if "your band" is playing the Agora---GET TICKETS) and split our separate ways into and out of that less-than-desirable-neighborhood. That was my perspective on things. Hope you enjoyed. If you didn't, please spare your hate mail and realize that we all can't have the same take on things. "The sparkle in your eyes...keeps me alive...."

Paul Worthington - pworth@bright.net

Setlist

Lil' Devil
Sun King
Rain
In The Clouds
Edie (Ciao Baby)
Fire Woman
The Witch
Peace Dog
New York City
Revolution
Sweet Soul Sister
Wild Flower
She Sells Sanctuary

Encore

Phoenix
Love Removal Machine