There’s something audacious about a band revisiting its own past by playing two separate sets under two different names. When that band is The Cult, and they’re resurrecting their skeletal post-punk precursor, Death Cult, for the first half of the evening, the result is nothing less than mind-blowing. Few bands have traversed such divergent territory, from alternative music’s post-punk underground to arena-shaking hard rock. And fewer have done so without abandoning either of their identities. That’s precisely what Ian Astbury and Billy Duffy delivered at San Francisco’s Warfield Theatre on Monday evening, October 27, in a show that revealed how both identities remain alive within the core of the band.
The evening began with Death Cult, the stripped-down, apocalyptic outfit that bridged the gap between Astbury and Duffy’s earlier Southern Death Cult and what would eventually become The Cult. With the same rhythm section that would back them for the complete Cult set, the duo launched into “Ghost Dance,” immediately establishing the evening’s darker, more austere tone. This wasn’t stadium rock. This was post-punk at its most bare and unforgiving, all angular guitars and Astbury’s shamanistic vocals echoing through the Warfield like a transmission from some desolate future.
The Death Cult set leaned heavily into the early Cult canon, with three songs from The Cult (“Resurrection Joe,” “83rd Dream,” and “Butterflies”) getting stripped back to their post-punk bones, alongside “Spiritwalker,” another Cult track that fit perfectly into Death Cult’s more primitive sound. These weren’t polite reimaginings. They were reminders that, before The Cult became arena rock contenders, they were a band steeped in the heady, atmospheric sounds of early ’80s UK post-punk. Songs like “Gods Zoo” and “Horse Nation” hit like incantations, Duffy’s guitar work spare but spiky, Astbury prowling the stage with the intensity of someone channeling forces from beyond.
After about 40 minutes, Death Cult left the stage, and a 10-minute interlude followed. Instrumental music played as imagery flickered across the screen behind the drum kit, creating an almost ritualistic transition. It was as if we were watching the band shed one skin to reveal another. When they returned, the transformation was complete. This was The Cult, and they opened with “Wild Flower” from their 1987 masterpiece Electric. The main visual change was a new image on the bass drum, but sonically, the shift was seismic.
Where Death Cult was skeletal and spare, The Cult was expansive and electrifying. Still operating with minimal special effects and production, the band let the songs do the work. And what songs they were. Drawing primarily from their holy trinity of albums, Love, Electric, and Sonic Temple, the 12-song set was a masterclass in hard rock firepower. “Hollow Man” and “Rain” from Love showcased the band’s ability to marry darkness with melody, while epic-sounding tracks like “Edie (Ciao Baby)” and “Fire Woman” from Sonic Temple proved why The Cult were also built for stadiums. They had depth, style, and an undeniable groove that set them apart from their peers.
Astbury’s voice sounded strong and commanding, his stage presence as magnetic as ever. At 63, he moves like someone half his age, channeling the same raw energy that made him a compelling frontman four decades ago. Duffy, meanwhile, remains one of rock’s most underrated guitarists. His tone is massive, his spidery riffs iconic, and his solos tasteful and melodic rather than indulgent and ostentatious. Tracks like “Lucifer” and “Lil’ Devil” allowed him to showcase both his technical prowess and keen understanding of what serves a song best.
What made the evening so compelling was the deliberate structure. By starting with Death Cult’s austere post-punk and building to The Cult’s more expansive hard rock, Astbury and Duffy weren’t just playing two sets. They were telling the story of their evolution, showing how the darkness and intensity of their early days never really left, but instead got channeled into something louder and bigger. It was a reminder that The Cult’s commercial success in the late ’80s wasn’t a betrayal of their roots, but an expansion of them.
The Cult remains a vital force, and this double-header format proved they’re not content to run through the hits. They’re still examining their past, still finding new ways to present their work, and still delivering performances that feel essential rather than obligatory.
The Case for The Cult’s Later Work, Now Reissued on Colored Vinyl
The timing of this tour coincides with Cooking Vinyl’s October vinyl reissues of two of The Cult’s most underrated albums: 2012’s Choice of Weapon and 2016’s Hidden City. Both albums were part of a rebirth period that saw the band working with producer Chris Goss (Queens of the Stone Age, Masters of Reality) on Choice of Weapon and Bob Rock (Metallica) on Hidden City, resulting in some of the strongest material of their later career.
Choice of Weapon arrives as a 2-LP limited-edition color-in-color effect vinyl (red/black for LP1, purple/black for LP2), while Hidden City has been newly remastered and presented as a 2-LP set on red and white vinyl. What makes these reissues a must is that they capture The Cult at a point where many legacy acts were coasting on past glories. Instead, Astbury and Duffy were writing driving rock music that honored their past without rehashing it. Choice of Weapon, recorded in the California desert, delivered the lead single “For the Animals” and earned iTunes’ Rock Album of the Year. Hidden City, leads off with the rhythmic “Dark Energy,” showcasing big jungle drums and Astbury’s knack for mystical refrains. All in all, the album was a statement of intent: The Cult was back in full force.
Both albums have been out of print since their original pressings, making them highly sought-after by fans. Getting them back on vinyl in premium formats is long overdue, and hearing them in the context of this week’s show reinforced just how strong The Cult’s entire discography remains, from Death Cult’s more primitive post-punk to their latest studio efforts.
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