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MUSICBOX
New miserable experience
I was actually quite concerned when I read that nu-metal producer Ross Robinson was behind the boards for the latest self-titled Cure album. Disturbing images came to mind, namely of Cure frontman Robert Smith jumping up and down in braids a la Korn’s Jonathan Davis or barking white-man gangsta rap not unlike Limp Bizkit’s Fred Durst. But far from these distressing concoctions, I discovered that The Cure, the English band’s 14th album, is a dense package of fractured sounds faithful to their venerated back catalogue. It was crystal clear that the Cure, after donkey’s years in the music business, hadn’t changed a bit. And that’s a damn good thing.
Fourteen albums. Most of today’s popsters can’t even count that far. Lead singer Robert Smith, with his quavering, fragile voice, provides the anchor in a sea of swirling, disjointed sound. Kings of a mopey style that has become its own trademark, the Cure still pack quite a punch, though the fickle record buying public might be put off due to the band’s lack of accessibility. For all you musical adventurers, pop in The Cure and see what happens.
The record kicks off on a melancholic note, with Smith repeating the line “I can’t find myself,” on the first track, Lost. The tune builds up in typical ‘wall of sound’ fashion, with all hell breaking loose towards the end, as the listener learns of Smith’s obsession. Labyrinth is more of the same, opening with a Middle Eastern riff that persists throughout the song. The record’s debut single, End of the World, isn’t as gloomy as it sounds. Actually, it’s kind of upbeat … well, as upbeat as the Cure get. Anniversary is tender, with plenty of treated guitar and a muted pace.
Us Or Them, an anti-terrorism song, comes off sounding ham-fisted. Political expression is not the Cure’s forte, so let’s stick to the lovely suicide ballads. (I Don’t Know What’s Going) On is much better, with a faster tempo and Smith’s unmistakable vocal acrobatics. Taking Off is the pick of the lot, and surprisingly, it’s a happy Cure song. Probably, the reason for my affinity is that the chord structure of the tune is similar to Friday I’m in Love, one of the band’s biggest smashes.
The local, pirated copy of The Cure is short one track, Going Nowhere. But in this country, even getting this much of a Cure album is a blessing. Highly recommended for late night listening. Preferably alone. —QAM
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