I was Livin’ in Wichita Keeper of the Plains Kansas and The Cult was on tour for their Rick Rubin Album Electric.  Ian Astbury’s eyes were big black pools, Kid Chaos from Zodiac Mindwarp was on bass with his trucker cap, Jamie was on rhythm guitar, Les Warner a kind soul was bashing the drums and Billy Duffy was at the zenith of his hedonism and they rolled into town on their Rolling Barnyard like a dirty leather tornado.  I gathered some friends and we crammed into dirty Cadillacs and took 2 filthy road trips to catch The Cult in Kansas City, Mo and Oklahoma City at Frontier City Amusement park and the anticipation was Mammoth…  Before The Cult hit the stage they always played AC/DC’s Back in Black and that really got the fear into motion.  I remember wet lipstick, moused hair, goth torn slips, crushed cheap beer cans, police, dead christians on the side of the road in a burned up van, being stranded, dancing on the side of the highway with Stevie Nicks lookin’ goddess bwabes and nearly getting ran over by Ian Astbury’s Limo.  Flying around in my Oscar Wilde shirt and pissed in leather trousers and it was Old Coyote fur, Metal Nazi Skulls, Native American Mojo Bags, scuffles, killer zodiac penned T-Shirts and after parties full of pony kegs, french kissing, Coca Cola and Jack Daniel’s Whisky and lots of finger fucking, sick skateboard rain dancing rock’n’roll…  it was a super wolf saliva mess and I loved every fucking bleeding cut knife wound minute of it.
1987 the brand new Summer of Hate.