Albums Revisited: The Cult’s Dreamtime (40th Anniversary Vinyl Reissue): in honor of Beggar’s Basement reissue, we look back at The Cult’s propulsive post-punk debut album four decades on.

The Cult are celebrating their 40th anniversary in style. In late 2023 they reunited as Death Cult, the moniker they used in the early 80’s before shortening their name to be more marketable. They did a brief tour that was well-received, with the rockers fully embracing their post-punk roots.

And now, Beggars Banquet has released a 40th anniversary remastered vinyl reissue of Dreamtime, The Cult’s 1984 debut album.

It’s a fascinating sonic snapshot of the group in their infancy, still adorned in the goth trappings that began with frontman Ian Astbury’s tenure with Southern Death Cult and guitarist Billy Duffy’s work with Theater of Hate, which coalesced with their formation as Death Cult and crystallized with newfound urgency on their first release as The Cult proper.

Songs like the strident Spiritwalker (which became a #1 UK independent single) showcase the group at their most wide-eyed and earnest.

Duffy’s guitar drips in Spaghetti Western drama, while Astbury’s unique vocals are sonorous, drenched in delay and put high in the mix. Aided by the punctuating bass of Jamie Stewart, and the tom-tom poundings of drummer Nigel Preston, the end result is a searing blast of early 80’s alternative with just the faintest hit of classic rock that would more prominently rear its head on albums like 1985’s Love, 1987’s Electric and 1989’s Sonic Temple.

But Dreamtime is its own beast, cast in shadowy melodrama and atmosphere, from the deeply psychedelic 83rd Dream, to the propulsive new wave of Go West (Crazy Spinning Circles) and the sonic odyssey A Flower In The Desert (adapted from the Southern Death Cult track Flowers In The Forest).

Astbury’s fascination with Native American and Indigenous culture looms large throughout, from the album artwork to primal spiritual workouts like the cinematic opener Horse Nation (which borrows prose from the 1970 book Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee), the title track which references Aboriginal Australian mythology, while the haunting Butterflies describes a Hopi ceremonial dance. The melancholic closer Bad Medicine Waltz is also awash in these influences, with Astbury crooning Wipe away the tear/With the skin from my hide.

The reissue is packaged handsomely, shipped in both black and red vinyl. If there is anything to nitpick, it’s the lack of bonus tracks Bone Bag, Sea and Sky and Resurrection Joe, or the group’s 1984 set at London’s Lyceum theatre. But given the former were issued on the original CD, and the latter on a cassette release, there likely wasn’t enough room for the bonus material to make the vinyl pressing.

That said, the remaster of Dreamtime sounds excellent, more vibrant and richer than before, and while sharing the sonic trappings of the 80’s, it still has an enduring power, and shows a fascinating starting point for a group whose sound continued to evolve and morph on each release.

There is a purity in sound and vision, with and a nascent yet evolving identity that makes Dreamtime both an essential release for diehard Cult worshippers and vintage college rock fans alike.