Ian Astbury with Boris

[Photo by Miki Matsushima]

Words by Andrew Parks

“People don’t usually drop the Cult as being one of their favorite ‘cool’ bands,” admits the band’s longtime singer, Ian Astbury, “Because a lot of people associate us with late ’80s histrionics. The reality of the situation is that we were indie kids first—working class musicians who were into post-punk and psychedelic rock. Eventually it evolved into drinking beer, listening to AC/DC and selling millions of records, though, and I just went with it.”

Going with it meant switching gears from the proto-goth tunes of the Southern Death Cult to such pyro-ready stadium-rock singles as “She Sells Sanctuary,” “Wild Flower” and “Fire Woman.” Somewhere between then and now, Astbury launched an ill-fated precursor to Lollapalooza (Gathering of the Tribes), slipped into Jim Morrison’s shoes on three of the Doors’ reunion tours, and tracked an EP with his unlikeliest collaborators yet: the art-damaged Japanese band Boris.

On the eve of Boris and Astbury’s premiere BXI performance at Brooklyn’s Masonic Temple tonight, we asked Astbury about the following: Damien Hirst, Vogue fashion spreads, poverty-stricken reservations, 500-year-old monasteries, and his undying hatred for a certain breed of hipsters. (This story was originally supposed to be about Astbury’s non-musical influences—hence the Hirst question up top—but it quickly turned into an hour-long run through of the singer’s entire career.)