Death Cult, Liverpool Mountford Hall. 10th November 2023

A short hop over to Liverpool for a visit to the university’s Mountford Hall. This place has a bit of history I’m told, but you wouldn’t really know to look at it. It feels pretty modern and well thought out for packing out with gig goers. Packed it is too for Death Cult tonight, but not uncomfortably. This too is a band with history. Pouring through a set tonight spanning from their origins to the more widely known The Cult years. If you want a good overview of how that all played out, John Robb’s book on Goth is a good place to start. I was sort of expecting some goth disciples in the 3000 strong crowd tonight, but there’s none of that, even with the solid warm up tape of Joy Division and Sisters. The anticipation in the room ramps as the lights drop and the score from A Clockwork Orange vibrates around the walls. Astbury appears, the crowd roar and the dissident roll of ’83rd Dream’ rings out. The voice is still there, better than ever in fact. No one sounds like Astbury. As they dig back, the songs are less familiar to many it seems and the excitement eases, but they still sound amazing and Astbury is having fun working the stage with his tambourine. The tribal drums of ‘Brothers Grimm’ sound massive as they dislodge ticker tape from the ceiling, the dark menace of the guitar curls and tons of phones come out to record the pretty lights. ‘Ghost Dance’ gets people moving a bit. How can you not with that rhythm. It really drives the earlier stuff, the guitars almost background, giving space for the vocals. Thats over though as we get to ‘Butterflies’, with the haunting guitar reverb cutting through as the swagger dial inches up. And as if to prove my point a spotlight  highlights Duffy on guitar for ‘A Flower in the Desert’ with just Astbury jointing. You can’t dance, you don’t want to, it’s a stand and watch in awe moment. You can’t stand still to ‘Ressurection Joe’. It’s a riff laden foot stomper, a mid-set spark, that heralds the bangers. Weird bangers granted. I mean these songs aren’t exactly mass crowd pleasers are they. They appeal to a select crowd, but ‘Horse Nation’ sounds epic and the sound in here is bloody good. The lad in front of me looks up concerned as the bloke next to him raises his arms aloft, pint in hand to ‘Go West’, but thankfully he’s as solid as the band and doesn’t spill a drop on our relieved friend. The touchpaper is burning sweetly as they tear into ‘Hollow Man’ and bizarrely I spot Sooty and Sweep rocking out down the front. If there’s a connection it’s lost on me, but it’s pretty funny. I might try and start a puppets at gigs craze. I could do without ‘Dreamtime’ to be honest, but ‘Spiritwalker’ hits the spot. It feels big enough to fill rooms like this ten times over, whilst still sounding like the classic underground goth disco juggernaut. Clothes are shed and throw toward the stage. It’s joyous stuff. ‘Rain’ takes us into the encore, with every word being sung back and even the big lads at the back bouncing. Before they return for an absolutely stunning version of ‘Moya’. Astbury now in a hoodie that amusingly just about houses his man bun. We all know what’s to come, but even as the guitar line for ‘She Sells Sanctuary’ slices through the room, it still manages to catch you off guard. It’s a great set, but my god this is truly something else. Well worth the drive over and I’ve got to say, Liverpool audiences are very friendly.