An Open Letter To The Cult

Dear The Cult,

I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed your recent concert in Saskatoon. Frankly, you guys RAWK! It was a thrill to finally see you in person, something I never thought I’d get to do. Thank you so much for coming to my area. All those good thoughts I thought about you over the years must have paid off, even while I was getting you confused with The Cure. Sorry about that, by the way.

I would like to say that your opening band, The Clits, were also really good. I’d never heard of them before, but always like to be exposed to new bands. I’m still a little confused as to whether there were girls or boys in the band, as they all had sexually ambiguous names & dressed androgynously, but the lead singer’s Stevie Nicks/Melissa Etheridge voice was amazing! I would recommend The Clits to anyone… Peanut, stop interrupting me while I’m talking to The Cult! What!?!? You Lie!

So, apparently, the opening band was The Cliks. My bad. Although, The Clits is a really sweet name for a band. Mayhaps I’ll use that one day, when I’ve actually learned how to play guitar ~ well, more than “Smelly Cat” at least.

I digress.

I also wanted to apologize to you, The Cult, for the weird audience that you had to endure while you were performing. I’ve never seen anything like it before. Yes, the dance floor was full. Yes, there was one brave soul crowd surfing. But the rest of the people were just standing there, staring at you like cult members {no pun intended} lining up for their Jimmy Jones Kool-Aid. That can’t be good. No wonder you only did the expected encore & nothing more. You didn’t get any energy, any feedback, any extra lurve from the crowd. I just want to reassure you that I was shakin’ that thing from my perch atop a chair the whole night.

The cabaret style concert was also a surprise. Nowhere on our info, emails, or stuffs on the Ticketmaster website specified the cabaret. Which was fine, as I like a good plastic glass of beer while I’m enjoying good music. I must say, however, that this cabaret is nothing like the cabarets I attended during my university years. No mosh pit, no beer showers, no molestation on the way to the washroom {although some kind soul did spank my butt when they walked by my dance floor/chair, which was a bit of a flashback for me & made me giggle}. The ubiquitous smell of marijuana was present, so at least not all has been lost over the years.

Best of luck with the rest of your tour! I’ve ordered a CD.

Sincerely,
Wilma