Gig

The Cult – Gig Review & Photo Gallery 25th November @ Fortitude Music Hall, Bris QLD

Nov 26, 2024

7 min read

The Cult
Fortitude Music Hall, Brisbane QLD
November 25, 2024
Support: Mayatrix and the Psychics

Monday, 7:00pm. A Goldilocks night had arrived. The evening air is decidedly temperate, a stark but highly welcomed contrast to the recent deluge that has plagued Brisbane (and my laundry schedule). A sold-out Monday night show? Unheard of. Yet here we all were, a testament to the enduring appeal of 80’s gothic-alt rock band, The Cult.

As I approached The Fortitude Music Hall, the scene outside was a dead giveaway. Even if I were a visitor from another land, the sea of black-clad figures congregating outside would have tipped me off. The uniform of the night was clear: black shirts, black jeans, and footwear ranging from the rebellious Doc Martens, to the more practical, arch-supporting Converse and/or Vans. A few Pearl Jam tees dotted the crowd, a nod to the shared lineage of alternative rock.

Inside, the venue was already looking like a scene from the Woolworths toilet paper aisle during the Covid era. The front bar area teems with eager fans waiting to order a round of drinks. Those who had already succumbed to the lure of the merch stand proudly displayed their fresh acquisitions, the collars of their old shirts peeking out from underneath.

I, along with a few other savvy attendees, ascend the staircase to the mezzanine level where the line for the bar is less daunting and a spot to view the show from is less scarce. After finding a pocket of space where I could just see the stage between the bald heads of two, grey-haired men, the opening act, Mayatrix and The Psychics take the stage.

The Perth group wasted no time in captivating the Brisbane crowd. Led by the enigmatic Moana Mayatrix, the band’s raw, psychedelic rock was a sonic and visual feast. The quartet are dressed exactly how you’d expect them to based on their sound – sporting jeans so ripped they looked like they’d been through a shredder while the lead singer wore a long, red ribbon trailing underneath what was either a pair of devil’s ears or a pirate-like hat. Either way, it was great.

Swirling her arms around her as she bounced between two microphones, Mayatrix immediately commanded the stage with a theatrical flair, her presence giving the energy of a frenzied angel as she flitted across the stage. The rest of the band members match her fluid energy, shifting around their space on stage and filling the venue with a barrage of sludgy instrumentals.

Their music was a potent blend of heavy riffs, hypnotic rhythms, and ethereal vocals. The instrumentalists frequently laid down rhythm so thick it could beat egg whites to stiff peaks in seconds while Moana’s voice, at times angelic, at times demonic, occasionally evoked comparisons to Portishead, but with a heavier, more doom-laden edge. Their second song, with its Beastie Boys, ‘Sabotage’–esque energy and siren-like vocals, was a particular highlight, showcasing the group’s ability to blend genres and create something truly unique.

Stepping outside during the changeover for some reprieve from the stifling body-heat inside the venue and to grab a bite to eat, I once again look at the crowd around. I spot a family of three, father and son both with long, shoulder length hair and mother with a long, black dress on. The friend I have brought with me notices the trio and says “Bet they’re such cool parents. I love that.” and honestly, I couldn’t agree more.

After some unsurprisingly lacklustre hot chips, I hustle back inside to the bar and to find a spot to settle in for the next hour-and-a-bit. Mind you, locating said spot wasn’t exactly easy, but after a few utterances of “Excuse me… Sorry… Can I come through?” I made it.

All of a sudden, the sound of a helicopter fills the space. Then, a familiar tune takes over.

Walking on stage to ‘The Ride of the Valkyries’ from Apocalypse Now is certainly a big-balls move, but if anyone was going to do it, it would be The Cult, and I completely condone it. An air of mutual anticipation bubbles from the beer-filled bellies of the audience – they start clapping, and they don’t stop for about two minutes. The show has begun.

The Cult, a seasoned English rock band, instantaneously commanded the stage with a raw energy that belied their decades of experience. Ian Astbury, the charismatic frontman, was a whirlwind of movement from the very start, his tambourine-shaking with such vigour that would make a Japanese high-rise tremble in fear. His bandmates, while more restrained in their movements, were equally impressive, delivering tight, powerful performances. Standing in front of their imposing amp stacks, Ian is dressed like Professor Snape crossed with a Harley Davidson rider. Wearing a cape-like black tunic and a bandana that covered his forehead, he exudes some sort of Ghost Rider energy while his bandmates, in their classic rock attire, provided the perfect counterpoint.

The setlist was a masterclass in rock and roll, blending classic hits with lesser-known gems. Their third song, ‘Wild Flower‘ ignited the crowd, with fans singing along and capturing the moment on their phones while industrial style lighting flashes around the band as if they’re playing in a scene from The Crow. For their song ‘Star’, Ian abandons his tambourine and wields a maraca, the song playing out like a petrol engine gently revving before the race begins. After a brief respite where Astbury announces that “they’re 51 shows deep” and that the last seven songs were “the warm up”, the quartet launched into ‘Resurrection Joe‘. A high-energy, track with drums kicks weightier than a sumo wrestler and a groovy, danceable rhythm, the crowd is moving and clapping in time with the music.

A welcomed break from the high-octane energy of the earlier songs, The Cult play their slower track, ‘Edie (Ciao Baby)’ before getting straight back onto the stadium-rock belters. Seconds after the band begin their iconic single, ‘Fire Woman’, I see an older gentleman being chaperoned out from the cramped front row. Too many drinks or too much rockin’ and rollin’, only he knows.

Closing their set with an encore of ‘She Sells Sanctuary’, the quartet are met with many weary but “Fuck yeah!” filled cheers. The crowd sings along, the chorus booming throughout the venue as The Cult says both goodbye and goodnight with their fiery, power-ballad anthem.

Leaving the venue, I see the twinkle of exhilaration in the crowd’s eyes while their shoes scuff along the floor. Happy, but haggard. We all race to various streets around Fortitude Valley to get an Uber home and hit the bed. It’s a school night, and it’s time we all turn our motors off.

Gig Review by Keeley Thompson @ballpointpress

Setlist

‘Ride of the Valkyries’ | Apocalypse Now
In The Clouds
Rise
Wild Flower
Star
The Witch
Mirror
War (The Process)
Resurrection Joe
Edie (Ciao Baby)
Sweet Soul Sister
Lucifer
Fire Woman
Rain
Spiritwalker
Love Removal Machine

Encore

Brother Wolf, Sister Moon
She Sells Sanctuary

Photo Gallery by Charlyn Cameron. Insta: @chuck_stuff
Please Credit & Tag Wall of Sound and Charlyn Cameron if you repost photos.

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