The Cure
The Cure
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“I can’t find myself,” shrieks Robert Smith during “Lost” the first track off The Cure. It’s a suitable commencement for a band that thrives on prophesizing severe highs and extreme lows. Sometimes they seem lost in themselves, unsure of which direction to pursue and at the same time, the band hasn’t been this zealous in years. Never before has a band openly embraced the manic wild mood swings of existence, with songs that are goofy and blissful, and others that are sullen and brooding. Not many bands can pull off a tune like “Friday I’m In Love” contrasted with “A Letter To Elise.” However, they are beginning to show their age, and still determined to triumph. One of their more schizophrenic records released in the late 90s, Wild Mood Swings was indicating that they might be recycling their strengths conceived on earlier efforts as opposed to evolving from them. For a band that used to be radio staples throughout the 80s and 90s, it may be very difficult for them to maintain success and recognition in the visage of an ever-changing music industry.

This appropriately finds the group vehemently reinventing themselves. Whether you find their new sound easily digestible may just depend on what kind of day you are having. Their last endeavor, 2000’s Bloodflowers, was supposed to be a return-to-form the likes of their best record, Disintegration, but that insipid attempt sounded dated, dull, and passionless, suggesting they were through once and for all. But the black t-shirt crowd remains dedicated because The Cure is a band they have grown up with, much like The Smiths. Lead singer Robert Smith is insistent on prevailing and you can hear it in his tortured, meandering voice that significance is as important as the accomplishment of self-expression. Many might indicate that the band has “sold out” by hiring Korn’s producer and changing their sound to supplement a more aggressive format. At one point, they even explicitly belt out visceral anthems that suggest a political foray, most predominantly on the album’s best track, “Us Or Them.” But it isn’t really until “Before Three” that the memorable trademark delay-induced timbre resurfaces with shaky, edgy guitars that eventually match Smith’s reckless anxiety. Fans may be left scratching their heads as they hear Smith belting discordantly to bar chords the likes of Disturbed as opposed to Slowdive. Even the luxuriant ballads are left to a minimal few. The trebly bass is no longer in the forefront, and the lush keyboards are left as sporadic afterthoughts. In other words, it is a different Cure than what we’re used to, and for the most part, it works.

It may very well be the band’s best since Wild Mood Swings, but for die-hard fans, there are clearly elements missing, replaced with a more chock-full distorted, otherworldly sound. Lead single, “The End of the World” is an upbeat deviation in which Smith exclaims, “I couldn’t love you more,” which is certainly a bouncy little number with blissful concords and a sunny deposition that mingles the old-school with the new. Yet one of the band’s weakest executions impassively implodes in on itself with “Taking Off,” a jovial but empty attempt that does anything but take off. But it’s clear that Bob is still a bit disgruntled during the leisurely paced “Anniversary.” Overall, The Cure is more visceral and passionate than anything they’ve done in years, possibly out to convince fans and detractors that they aren’t planning on going anywhere. While they may not achieve the same kind of uplifting sonic victory that they once did with a single like “Just Like Heaven,” they’re not quite out of the game yet. During a time in which a lot of music sounds like an afflicting disease of dispassion and indifference, it’s good to hear that The Cure is still offering some much-needed radiotherapy.

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