When Richard Butler's Love Spit Love debuted in 1994, loyal Psychedelic Furs fans reacted with much trepidation. Those of us who came of age in the early '80s have a tough cross to bear: We feel passionately about the music we went through puberty with, just as much as the next generation. But ours--a heavily stylized, often fey mix of new wave, goth, and burgeoning Brit pop--doesn't always fare so well in hindsight. So it's understandable that Psychedelic Furs fans who spent dark nights identifying with Caroline in "Pretty in Pink" or the romantic dreamer in "Love My Way" might receive the news that Furs frontman Richard Butler was stabbing out on his own with a quiet fear that he hadn't... (ahem) aged well. His arty-poetic poncey-ness, projected against the shruggingly casual earnestness of mid-'90s alterna-rock, might seem downright embarrassing and shameful to his loyal following.

Thankfully, Love Spit Love, while not a huge success, revealed Butler to be a progressive artist, one who wasn't willing to forsake his style for the hope of a new audience, whose song craft crossed over from one decade to the next with graceful relevance. Love Spit Love was heavier and sexier, but still grand and poetically observant.

In the years since, there has been a Love Spit Love follow-up and two Psychedelic Furs retrospectives (1997's career-encompassing Should God Forget and 2000's Greatest Hits). And, as things must go in this life, a headlining tour is now in progress, much to the joy (and apprehension) of us, the loyal fans. While it doesn't help matters much that just a few days ago Butler pulled a Bono and fell off a stage in Houston--tearing some ligaments in the process--all reports say that each show of the tour has been nothing short of nostalgic brilliance, all theatrical lighting and tightrope poses, and, of course, Butler's gorgeous rasping vocals. We're seriously missing that kind of showmanship these days. This fan is looking forward to cheering its unabashed return with no amount of trepidation.