“The eco-system needs it’s predators” mused Ian Astbury last year, and few beasts in rock’n’roll come bigger than The Cult. Those assuming Asto may be a few Tipis short of a reservation following his spell as Jim Morrison can think again. Amped to an industrial sheen by producer Youth and packed with stripped-back stadium choruses, Born Into This rips from the speakers like an irate Velvet Revolver, Billy Duffy’s relentless axe-hero riffing matched by Astbury’s typically waspish lyrics. “Taste the whip babe!” he bellows in “Undercover Of The Night” homage “Dirty Little Rock Star”. Still King Of The Jungle. PAUL MOODY
“The eco-system needs it’s predators” mused Ian Astbury last year, and few beasts in rock’n’roll come bigger than The Cult. Those assuming Asto may be a few Tipis short of a reservation following his spell as Jim Morrison can think again.
Amped to an industrial sheen by producer Youth and packed with stripped-back stadium choruses, Born Into This rips from the speakers like an irate Velvet Revolver, Billy Duffy’s relentless axe-hero riffing matched by Astbury’s typically waspish lyrics. “Taste the whip babe!” he bellows in “Undercover Of The Night” homage “Dirty Little Rock Star”.
Still King Of The Jungle.
PAUL MOODY
