Blue Öyster Cult: A 50-plus Year Career of Evil

Combining muscle, malevolence, sarcasm and sophistication, Blue Öyster Cult became one of the hottest live attractions of the 1970s and beyond. The Long Island rock band’s earliest years found them trying on a succession of names – The Stalk-Forrest Group, Oaxaca, Soft White Underbelly – before settling on the distinctive name. And the signature ümlaut – subsequently copied by Mötley Crüe, Motörhead, Queensrÿche, Hüsker Dü and even Spın̈al Tap – telegraphed a vaguely sinister undercurrent.

Yet for the band launched by guitarist Donald “Buck Dharma” Roeser and Eric Bloom, gimmickry has always been secondary to the music. The band’s brand of rock leverages proto-metal instrumental prowess with a literate lyrical bent. BÖC members have often collaborated with writing partners to create memorable and well-loved songs; rock critic Richard Meltzer and original manager Sandy Pearlman both worked extensively with the band on writing material. Celebrated science fiction authors Michael Moorcock, Eric Van Lustbader and John Shirley have lent their vivid prose to the band’s songs. Rocker/poets Patti Smith (“Career of Evil”) and Jim Carroll wrote with the band as well.

Imbuing pop culture with the rock aesthetic, BÖC scored one of its biggest successes with 1977’s “Godzilla,” a million-seller. And “(Don’t Fear) The Reaper” from 1976’s Agents of Fortune was a smash hit that has remained in the public consciousness for decades, thanks in part to Saturday Night Live’s parodic 2000 “More Cowbell” sketch.

To be sure, BÖC has had its ups and downs; with 16 studio albums under its belt, today the band focuses primarily on live performance. Along the way, the group has experienced its share of personnel changes; only Bloom and Dharma remain from the classic lineup. These days, the band’s secret weapon is bassist Richie Castellano, who’s been with the band for 20 years. In addition to his role in another group, The Band Geeks (who record and tour with former Yes vocalist Jon Anderson), Castellano is a songwriter and prime mover within BÖC.

The band’s latest release, 2024’s Ghost Stories is a collection of songs recorded decades ago during rehearsals. That album project was an ambitious endeavor. “The tapes oxidized over time and had to be cleaned up,” Bloom explains. “So they were baked.” Then, using state-of-the-art AI software, Castellano “demixed” and remixed the two-track recordings, with the band adding new instrumentation and vocals as needed.

Meanwhile, the group remains on good terms with former members. Founding drummer Albert Bouchard played on all BÖC releases through 1981’s hit Fire of Unknown Origin, but he has returned for occasional guest spots many times in the forty-plus years since his official exit. “We did a gig near his house in Connecticut a couple of years ago,” Bloom recalls. “He came up and sang ‘Hot Rails to Hell.’”

Bloom is pleased that his band gets recognized for its place in rock history, though he’s clearly a bit annoyed – or at least mystified – at BÖC’s being passed over for consideration by the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. “The main principal [Jann Wenner] had a bug up his ass around certain bands that would never get in,” he suggests. “He’s out now, but there are still certain bands… I mean, Alice Cooper only semi-recently got in. He should have been in 20 years before!” Bloom observes, “There’s so much real rock that just doesn’t seem to get in there; they should have just changed the name to the Music Hall of Fame, the Entertainment Hall of Fame or something like that.”

“Lately I’ve been doing deep Internet dives,” Bloom says. In the process, he made a fascinating discovery. “On YouTube, I came across some live Blue Öyster Cult shows from ‘89 and ‘90, one of which was a WPLR New Haven broadcast from a place called Toad’s. And it’s a slamming show; it rocks from top to bottom.” Conceding that the late ‘80s doesn’t rank as most fans’ favorite BÖC era, he says that the performance remains noteworthy. “It’s from the Imaginos album era; we play ‘In the Presence of Another World’ and [other] songs we don’t usually play like ‘Take Me Away’ [from The Revölution by Night]. Any BÖC fan of any time should watch this show,” he says.

Bloom often finds himself amused by fans’ adoration for his band. On another of his deep dives, he encountered some of the group’s hardcore fans. “One time I found several guys who have Blue Öyster Cult ‘history pages,’” he says. “And it’s very interesting to see: Are they right? They go off on tangents, and some of them are pseudo-intellectual treatises on what they think we’re all about.”

He laughs as he recalls one fan commenting on the band’s tepidly-received 1985 album. It’s kind of interesting,” he observes. “Some of them are sort of correct: ‘Club Ninja. Boy, did they go wrong on this one!’ I understand that. I mean, who makes every record great? Nobody! But it’s kind of funny to just watch their takes on my life.”

Still, Eric Bloom has long since found whatever validation he might need. He recalls a gig in either 1975 or ‘80 (“I’m sure there are hardcore fans who would know which; I just don’t remember,” he says). That night, his elderly mother attended a show at Madison Square Garden. “When my 80-year-old mother came to see us play, I figured, ‘Maybe I’ve done something right!’”