The Cure

Depending on when you were born, the word sexy takes on differing ideals. If you were born in the 40’s, Doris Day and Dean Martin could have exuded this. If you were somehow exposed to the music of today, it might very well be Lana Del Ray or Pharrell. But in the 80’s, everything was all fucked up…and for good reason. Really trying to find a thread of musical integrity within a booming corporate globalisation must have been very difficult.

The counter culture of the decade where style was so obviously abandoned for the almighty dollar is where the New Wave culture really made a difference. Which leads me to …

The Cure were…well, they just were. At every party. In everyone’s CD collection. On every radio station. Not enough that you would get sick of hearing them, but enough to know every word to ‘Love Cats’ by the age of 12. It took me a long time to admit that when I was young, I wasn’t the biggest Cure fan [it was very cool to be a diehard fan in my teen years], but I think that like most good counter cultures, it took me a while to appreciate the left of centre genius that is Robert Smith and Company.

During this peak in their career, I truly thought that Robert Smith had something about him that made him so super, gothcentrically sexy. Maybe it was the sound of his voice. Maybe it was the non conformist and introverted dance moves while singing. Or maybe it was even the copious amounts of eyeliner partnered with some high top sneakers.

Either way, I secretly admired him/them and wished I knew enough about being alternative at age 15 to be a fan…but I didn’t. And I wasn’t…yet.

I have said this before, but obviously I don’t stick to it very well. I don’t usually like making ‘Best of..’ albums as my favourite album. But there are obviously concessions here. ‘Standing on a Beach’ [aka ‘Staring at the Sea’] was literally the Ultimate Cure album. It was huge when it came out.

Even if it didn’t sell record numbers [it went 3x Platinum in Australia], everyone I knew had a copy. It got played at parties, sleep overs, in Walkmans and Portable CD players. Also In car stereos while you were in the midst of something intimate with a long term crush. [Come on people, I’m not alone here…] The cover itself is nearly one of the most recognisable albums I know. From what I read, it is simply a retired fisherman called John Button who didn’t even have a tape player to listen to the album on. Needless to say, his face now is just as iconic as the band themselves.

So with a gaggle of awesome tracks to choose from here like, ‘Jumping Someone Else’s Train’, ‘Let’s Go To Bed’ & ‘Boys Don’t Cry’, it was enough to show me a little of the magic that is The Cure. Most people I know will have some idea about this album, and for those who don’t, you may have missed the boat. But as I said before, it bring memories flooding back when I hear this one. And that’s always a good thing. Memories and music go hand in hand, whether we like it or not.

So I give you a very vivid one of me with 5 very close friends Kate, Anna, Tamara, Julian & Johnny who used to hang out next to rivers, beneath houses, in parks, at McDonalds…anywhere that was where the others were, that’s where we were. A few others became part of this family as well, but this is not an uncommon story. It was a good time in my life. It shaped a lot of who I am today, and to those few, I thank you.

Note: They don’t have the album on the Australian store [???], so above is a playlist with most the songs. *ahem…budget*

I tried my darndest during my later teen to really find an alternative to mainstream. I admit I was lost for quite a few years in the late 80’s early 90’s swell of nothingness [Well, I know that Morris Minor and the Majors wasn’t nothing, but you get my drift], and then Seattle Grunge was born and it was like a whole new world.

So I am very melancholy about The Cure. Some part of me thinks that this is supposed to be the case, but when I hear certain songs like ‘Boy’s Don’t Cry’, ‘Let’s Go To Bed’ or ‘Inbetween Days’, I have massive flashbacks of awkwardness, overwhelming confusion and wrong fashion. But every time, I smile, because all of these things were experienced with friends that were just a strange and self conscious as I was.

I have left two songs to be mentioned because I think that they are The Cure’s best. Firstly, ‘Lullaby’ is so beautiful in its composition that it sorta doesn’t come off as The Cure. Off their 1989 ‘Disintegration’ album, it was a shining light and seemed to somehow capture this awesome Brit Punk/Pop band in a completely new light. It is by far their most popular track ever, and for good reason.

The second is a track that put on most of my favourite songs playlists. ‘Close to Me’ has played it’s way into my ears on so many occasions that sometimes I think it’s like mixing up memories with dreams. I can’t tell when I first heard it or if it was playing during important moments in my life, I just assume it was.

As I get older, I’m starting to appreciate more and more the music that helped shape me as a human, and I’d be a total dick to Robert & the Boys if I didn’t acknowledge the undercurrent of dark, brooding soft punk that they created which seemed to make its way into everyone’s psyche and possibly help shape the next stage of music for the globe….or not. Hell, when I was 15, I just wanted a great song to not interrupt the chemistry happening between me and [insert name here].

So, with a melancholy heart and a determined ‘Fuck You’ to whatever household that is being exposed to the wonders of Robert Smith’s beautiful awkwardness, I’ll leave you with ‘Lullaby’, because I think there is something about it that makes everyone smile…just a bit. Plus, I think it shows how out-of-the-box these guys were.

If you have kids, introduce them to these guys because if this is as dark as they get, thats probably a good thing.

M /