The Cult was perfect for the Eighties: loud, garish, over the top. Now, the band struggles to find equilibrium between maturity and fan expectations. Hidden City, the UK-to-L.A. ensemble’s 10th LP, comes close. Minus a need to shout, the quintet channels its energy into textures that simmer instead of burn. Billy Duffy paints guitar tones more psychedelic than metal, while Ian Astbury uses a vocal range clipped by age to give his elliptical lyrics conviction rather than grandiloquence. Whether a rocker (“Dark Energy”), ballad (“Birds of Paradise”), or combo (“Deeply Ordered Chaos”), the Cult compels with unrelieved tension, not bluster. (Fri., 12mid, ACL Live at the Moody Theater)

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This article appears in March 18 • 2016.

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Michael Toland started writing about music in 1988 on the Gulf Coast, moved to Austin in early 1991, and has inflicted bylines upon the corporeal and digital pages of Pop Culture Press, The Big Takeover, Blurt, Amplifier, Austin.citysearch, the Austin American Statesman, Goldmine, Sleazegrinder, Rock & Roll Globe, High Bias, FHT Music Notes, and, since 2011, The Austin Chronicle.