If you've read a lot of my reviews, you've figured out that, as a record collector, I'm fond of "greatest hits" albums. Part of my reasoning is simply economic - that is, I have to buy this stuff. And, there are also space considerations - I gotta put all this stuff somewhere. But the sad fact is, most artists don't have the sustaining talent to produce album after album of good songs. They either have only one really good record in them (like, say, Richard Hell) or they have only enough juice for a few good songs at most per album (ladies and gentlemen, Billy Idol). But every now and then, I encounter an artist who never captured my attention until they released a hits package.

Enter The Cult. I always thought of them as lightweights twisting in the winds of fashion. But when High Octane Cult came along (now replaced by Pure Cult), I realized that the cumulative effect of all those derivative singles had won me over. Mind you, it stops there, but the Cult rocks pretty hard, and their chameleon-like changes have kept them from getting too dull. Who knew? By the way, the Cult was originally known as the Southern Death Cult. They slimmed down to Death Cult before finally reducing to a monosyllabic name to match their monosyllabic rock. After the group's breakup in 1995, yowling lead vocalist Ian Astbury embarked on a halting solo career.