IN REVIEW: The Cult - "Hidden City"

It feels like The Cult have released more than ten studio albums, but upon discography research I found that Hidden City is indeed their tenth. The reason that seems low to me is partly due to the fact that they've been a band for 35 years, and partly due to the sheer amount of sonic ground they've covered up to this point in their career.

Never shy when it comes to assimilating styles of the times into their sound, The Cult have dabbled in psychedelic pop/alt (Dreamtime, Love), muscular rock/metal (Electric, Sonic Temple), grungy hard rock (The Cult), and even nu-metal (Beyond Good and Evil) en route to great success and the sad, slow decline in popularity that followed. Nearly a decade ago, however, the band shifted their focus to no-frills, balls-to-the-wall rock n' roll with Born Into This. It wasn't the sound of a band aping popular culture, more so a band tearing it down to the foundation and starting anew.

The supposed closing chapter of a thematic trilogy that began with Born Into This, Hidden City follows that record nine years later (and its predecessor, Choice of Weapon, three years later); upon listening to it, there are a few similarities to be heard between this record and the two that came before it, but you can trace parallels between it and virtually any of the previous nine for that matter.

Indeed, Hidden City finds The Cult touching all of the bases of their past while still reaching for inspiration from more styles. The record kicks off with the sweaty blues rocker Dark Energy, thumping along on a thick beat and featuring Billy Duffy's effortless riff mastery. There are subtle nods to their early days on Birds of Paradise and No Love Lost, the latter of which explodes with a gnarled, nasty chorus that recalls Electric and Beyond Good and Evil simultaneously. There are even hints of the more grandiose style associated with their big ballads on In Blood.

When all of the influences start to intersect, they create what amounts to a whole new sound for the band, as they do on Hinterland. Duffy's chops and Ian Astbury's voice are in fine form here, and the song is full of grit and texture. It may just be the stickiest, most wholly satisfying single by this band since the turn of the century. It's followed by G.O.A.T., a loud and brash number that airlifts listeners back to 1988 and plays like a Billy Duffy clinic; seriously, he pretty much solos over the entire thing, and it's glorious. 

The back end of the record can be a little hit-and-miss (I'll echo some other reviewers who have suggested cutting a couple of tracks would improve the record overall), although a couple of the record's most pleasant surprises are found toward the end. Deeply Ordered Chaos sees Astbury at his theatrical best, backed by orchestration as he croons his reaction to the Charlie Hebdo shootings. Sound and Fury, meanwhile, ends the album on a pensive note, twinkling pianos and percussive beat creating a chill closer that reminds me of Massive Attack of all things.

That a band can survive as many ups and downs as The Cult over so many years and still manage to find ways to sound unique in 2016 is borderline miraculous, and yet here we are with a remarkably varied and sonically relevant record by a group who were considered by most to be washed up about twenty-five years ago. Hidden City isn't a flat-out classic by any stretch but, considering the spottiness of the majority of their output since, it improbably ends up being their best since Sonic Temple.

February 5, 2016 • Dine Alone

Highlights Dark Energy • Hinterland • G.O.A.T.