Cults Cults Cults @ The Gladstone Hotel for Nuit Blanche 2011

From Left to Right: Brian Oblivion, Nathan Aguilar, Gabriel Rodriquez, Madeline Follin

If I can remember the Poutini’s orders correctly, Gabriel had the smoked meat, Nathan had the bacon, and the duo shared the maraschino cherry. I mean, the cigarette. I mean, the small regular.

Outside my reservations of speaking on camera, interviewing Cults was as close to the life of Barbara Walters I ever thought one could get. Sure, it took a solo head count down a bottle of grigio, followed by an hour of pacing and scribbling outside the margin of a Moleskin, and a meltdown on Gorevale to prepare, but no one got hurt, so let’s move on.

Not only did the majority of the band batman the second they arrived at the Gladstone (a publicist’s nightmare), but Cults traded in their handbags for whisky at the door and were pretty enthusiastic about bird nests, mobiles, cigarettes, poutine, talking to strangers, disrupting hotel guests, bathroom breaks, hugs, etc.

Brow furrowing though, Brian and Madeline are a dynamic most worthy of additional comment – despite Nathan’s approval of my inclusive approach to interviewing – they are WAY fascinating comme deux. Moments with them that might never leave my head: a) endlessly whispering to one another all night long and b) sitting adjacent to their conversation and seeing the look in Brian’s eyes as Madeline’s laughter filled the hotel’s entire fourth floor. Easy. Bake. Oven.

If it weren’t for the fact that I knew Gabriel didn’t drum for the band (because they were in a big fight with the drummer and left him at home for the night), at first I thought Gabriel was crazy enough to be a drummer. Instead of crazy though, he turned out to be really fun! One of those fly-by-the-seat-of-his-pants kinda dudes. The one who’s always down for whatever but still totally capable of killing someone if you needed him to. You know, the guy who makes you laugh a lot but you’re scared to be alone in a room with (in a good way). That’s Gabriel. He’s also officially now competing for the ‘best hair’ award. Go Gabriel!

Personalities aside, “Go Outside” is a great single, and I think as far as throwback Motor City tunes that meet feminism and hit you like malt liquor and cocaine go, Cults owns the genre. I call it Shoegazer Bubblemint in E Flat, you call it Hipster, Snax calls it lame. Cults 7″ is still music that’s selling records and constantly under the fingernails of youth around the world. No matter how you look at it. Whatever happened to ‘don’t hate the player, hate the game’ anyway?

Sure, the band wouldn’t be where they are today if it weren’t for cliché dreams art school and the internet, or because somehow California still plays the coolest place on earth in every blockbuster film. But who cares? It’s Cults! They brought bandcamp to life!

Regardless, there’s a lot less irony associated with this band than I think a lot of people would like to admit. Quirky names aside, The Tipping Point sat on their bed stands for years and I bet Silicon Valley references always fly when in-house inspiration bursts. They’re just another great band in America making friends along the way. The music is good. The timing is right. The people are legit. What more do you want? Opie to end it with the porn star? Not going to happen – Jax would never let that happen.

All photography ©Courtney Lee Photography 2011

WORDS BY KATHERINE ALICIA SNACK