About That Ian Astbury Thing …

I received this in my comment section today:

• Gimme a break man, ‘cupcakes are wrong, they do not mix with rock’. Astbury still rocks and still has one of the best rock-voices ever. If you dont like to see him being ‘pussy-whipped’, just dont watch this and play his records! He is in balance: on stage rocking, off stage being himself and loving his woman. Cheers Ian! — Michael

This is in response to an article, something I wrote a couple of years ago. And it got me thinking, reading it again today, that I was, perhaps, too hard on Ian Astbury and his cupcakes.

Read the original, then come back.

Ian Astbury fronts The Cult, my favourite rock band. Period. His music has been played more times than anything else I own. (You would think this would make Ian my favourite singer, but that’s actually Elvis. Ian’s up there, though.)

Back when I still owned vinyl, I had every album up to Sonic Temple, every EP, every single, every remix. My memorabilia box would probably fetch me some serious eBay coin, except it burned in the fire — kind of fitting, considering it contained at least one Fire Woman metal badge. And also lots of Billy Duffy’s guitar picks. This still pisses me off.

And so I feel kind of bad that I made fun of Ian Astbury and his cupcake love. Especially with new music out, two rocking tracks that prove The Cult may age, but their power, their energy, just gets better with time.

The new album, a “capsule,” is a mini-recording, self-released, and produced by Chris Goss, the mastermind behind one of my other favourite bands, Masters of Reality. Goss also produced Astbury’s underappreciated solo album, which has some amazing not-quite-Cult-but-amazing tracks on it. I bought Steve Jones’ Fire and Gasoline, for crying out loud. Oh, and I still play that Holy Barbarians album regularly, too, and the song he did on Slash’s solo CD this year is my favourite on the record.

In other words, Ian Astbury is my hero. And so, tonight, I ate a cupcake. It had pink icing and a plastic Thomas the Tank Engine stuck to it. It was very sweet, and while I didn’t feel very rock ’n’ roll, I enjoyed every bite.

You rock, Ian Astbury. Sorry I made fun of your cupcakes.

Buy his new music here (in several formats, including on USB sticks, which is monstrously cool). Also, here’s some old stuff you may not know, but should.