STACK August 2016 Issue 142

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I t’s hard to believe that Robert
Smith’s gothic icons are now
celebrating their 40 th year. In
fact, back in the early ‘80s, it seemed
unlikely they would last much past their
fifth birthday.
As recounted in Jeff Apter’s
exhaustive biography Never
Enough , the band imploded
spectacularly in 1982
while touring their fourth
record Pornography.
Smith and bassist
Simon Gallup had
already come to blows
at a bar early on in the
tour but things came to
a head a month or so later
when the pair were joined by
their roadie in an on-stage brawl at
a show in Brussels.
However, it turned out to be the best
thing that could have happened to The
Cure: Gallup left the band and Smith –
encouraged by manager and label boss
Chris Parry – decided to reinvent The
Cure as a more pop-oriented act. The
sleek electro-pop grooves of Let’s Go
To Bed saw them notch up a 1983 top
20 hit in this part of the world, and The
Walk and the novelty nonsense of The
Lovecats helped Smith complete his
transformation from brooding nihilist to
lovable goth munchkin.
Critics and fans alike
lambasted their third
album Faith, and by
1982, Smith’s bleak
dirges of death and
depression were
starting to sound a
little old hat: elsewhere
in the post-punk world,
guitars were beginning
to jangle in exciting new
ways, bands like Talking Heads,
New Order and Gang Of Four were
embracing funk. If doom and gloom
were what listeners were after, then
Nick Cave and the Velvet Underground
were much cooler names to drop.
In September, the first four Cure
records are due for reissue on 180gsm
vinyl. So how do they hold up after all
these years?
Although Smith regularly dismisses
their debut Three Imaginary Boys as his
favourite record, it’s held up remarkably
well. True, there is a bit of filler and the
singles Boys Don’t Cry and Killing An Arab
(included in the US version) are sorely
missed, but the lean, minimalist music
settings work well on the title track and
the classic 10.15 On A Saturday Night.
Seventeen Seconds
introduced synths and Smith’s
flang-y guitar and while these
songs are steeped in pain and
loneliness, tracks such as A
Forest and In Your House still
exert a spine-tingling charm.
Faith was when the fractures
began appearing with the band,
yet the long player is not quite
as one-note as we remember;
the clipped, relentless pulse
of Primary remains a New
Wave classic, while the likes
of All Cats Are Grey and The
Drowning Man are foreboding
death marches of doubt and
self-loathing.
That just leaves Pornography.
You can see why it is regarded
by many Cure fans as their best
album – its influence on emo
and nu-metal scenes is readily
apparent – and the jagged riffs
and rhythms add an extra layer
of menace to the unrelenting
howls of despair.
Smith has said he intended
Pornography to be the “ultimate
f*** off record” before signing
off for good. Fortunately, he only
got one part of the equation right
and the pop gifts that surfaced
on early songs like Boys Don’t
Cry eventually got the chance
to flower. But if you only know
The Cure for their hits, take
some time out to wallow in the
masterful melancholy that is
their first four records.
visit MUSIC FEATURE
18 AUGUST 2016
MUSIC
TheCURE
In super exciting vinyl news, next month Universal
are reissuing the first four albums from seminal
English act The Cure. John Ferguson delves into
those golden, early '80s days.
take some time
out to wallow in
the masterful
melancholy
Three Imaginary Boys
(1979)
Seventeen Seconds
(1980)
Faith
(1981)
Pornography
(1982)