THE CULT Frontman: 'We Need Real Artists With Real Vision'

Australia's Herald Sun recently conducted an interview with THE CULT frontman Ian Astbury. A couple of excerpts from the chat follow below.

Herald Sun: What had to be right for this CULT reunion?

Astbury: Intention. What is the intention of us working together? What is the purpose of going on a stage, and performing? Is our intention to perform to the best of our ability, to create ritual space, have a shared experience, a fulfilling experience, to commune with an audience? If that's our intention, I'm in. If it's purely a money thing, a job, then I'm out, because I'm giving of my essence here. I require that emotional awareness for me to be safe to perform in that space. I give it everything I've got. Let's be honest — who's going to take all this shit with them when they go? When your number comes up, you can't take anything. What goes with you — your essence, your spirit, your experiences. That energy, which is either going to be good, strong positive energy, or negative. That's why we see so many people dying from cancer. Their energy is dark and full of regret, shame and disillusion. Cancer is bad energy. I watched both my parents die of cancer, so I'm speaking from experience. It's one of the real driving forces of why I struggled with it all my life to find the space to articulate myself, with language and, as a performer. That, to me, is where the good stuff is. We also have a responsibility to the generation behind us. We don't own any of this. I'm concerned for future generations of musicians and artists. It resonates well for a performance if it's a celebration of life.

Herald Sun: What did you get out of fronting the DOORS OF THE 21ST CENTURY?

Astbury: I was a great admirer of THE DOORS music, and (Jim) Morrison as a performer, singer, lyricist, shaman and visionary. Working with master musicians at the height of their powers was a supreme education. I got a scholarship to the best university in the world and there was room for one student. Once all the detractors had thrown their little pebbles — "Oh, Astbury in THE DOORS. That sucks. It's going to be shit. Who does he think he is?" All I saw was everybody who ever fantasized about singing in THE DOORS become incredibly envious. It was difficult for people to come up to me and say: "You know what? Congratulations. It's amazing they asked you to do it. I'm really happy for you." There was none of that encouragement. Initially, there was an incredible amount of venom and jealousy. And bitterness from the fans. But I weighed up everything. Can I do a performance that has weight, subtext, nuance and intention. Learning the lyrics is one thing, singing in tune is one thing. But to understand, cognitively and emotionally, the subject material, was the hardest part. These songs had their own personality of which Jim was an aspect. It's far more complex when you're inside it. I never once thought I was stepping in the shoes of Jim Morrison, I never one thought I was on a par with Jim Morrison. How could I? When I did it, I was 42 years old. I wouldn't have been able to do it in my 20s. But at 42, I had the weight of character, experience and the understanding to do it right. And you know what? Another thing that pissed me right off was — there wasn't a single American singer who stepped up to the plate and said: "I want to do this. I'm an American artist — I demand to this." Not Eddie Vedder, no Dave Grohl, no Trent Reznor, no Perry Farrell. Not one of them stepped up and fought for it. No Scott Weiland. When (DOORS OF THE 21ST CENTURY) needed that generation to surround them and support them, the cupboard was bare. Everybody was waiting for their door to be knocked on. But I honored that legacy, I put my soul into it, I lost myself inside it. Every time I walked on stage, I had a responsibility to (original DOORS members) Jim (Morrison),and Ray (Manzarek),and Robby (Krieger),and John (Densmore),to bring it. I did 150 shows — almost as many as Morrison. So, the next time people are handing out awards and lauding over Perry and Eddie's wonderful contributions to music, really have a look at their contribution. Integrity, diginity and experience? Some kind of fake emotionality? I don't think so. My heroes — Bowie, Joe Strummer, Ray Manzarek, Jim Morrison, Iggy Pop, Nico, Buffy Saint Marie, Joan Baez, Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix, Jimmy Page, Robert Plant. The list goes on. All those guys went out on stage and did their shit, and never once stood on the limelight and said: "Hey, I'm the cat's meow." They didn't do that. They had integrity. I want to be like that as I get older. I don't want to be some jock rock guy — "Hey, I'm Dave Grohl, let's rock!"

Herald Sun: You mentioned you were at a station in life where you're taking a look at yourself. Who do you see in 2010?

Astbury: I'm becoming more vocal about who I am. I'm reclaiming trophies that belong to me that are in other people's cabinets. I created the Gathering Of The Tribes Festival. That was my vision. I did it a full year before Lollapalooza. Perry Farrell is still dining out on that — and it wasn't his idea. But, at the time, being terribly English, I thought it extremely gauche to have sour grapes. I'm at a place where I'm taking credit for what I've done. I remember being out night — it was a very bizarre evening — with Eddie Van Halen telling me he'd created punk rock. We were both at a concert. The guy on stage was Arthur Lee, of (the 1960s rock band) LOVE. I turned to Eddie and said: "Do you know who that guy is on stage?" He said: "Ah, some black guy." I said: "That's Arthur Lee, of a band called LOVE. He started punk rock. Everything he did was recorded by Bruce Botnick and Paul Rothchild. They took that to THE DOORS, who influenced the CHOCOLATE WATCH BAND, and Roky Erickson, and 13TH FLOOR ELEVATORS, and STOOGES, and MC5. He started punk rock. You have nothing to do with punk rock. In fact, punk rock was about getting rid of people like you." It's time to speak up. The whole thing is in a fucking mess and nobody is taking responsibility. Everybody is too scared. Everybody wants to be liked. You get your jock rock — Mr. Congeniality. We don't need congeniality. We need real artists with real vision.

Read the entire interview from Herald Sun.