Today marks the 25th anniversary, a quarter century, of the release of The Cure's pinnacle album, Disintegration. There seem to be very few bands who release an album and you know immediately that this may either be their last work or the last truly great thing. This album was one of those moments. [Note: I have to give credit to their 1992 follow-up Wish for being quite a great record in retrospect; it would have been a sweet swan song...but no, it was not the last.]
What an anniversary for this piece of art on a day when it will be sunny and 90 degrees in Portland. Well, the freakish element of the weather is something Robert Smith would love...from the shadow of his mansion's darkest, coolest room.
With every tinkle of our neighbor's wind chimes in their backyard (i.e., any time the wind blows more than a whisper), I'm immediately brought back to the pretty intro to the album, right before the crash of an opulent strings (all keyboards?) comes in on 'Plainsong' and starts of the journey.
The slinky, creepy 'Lullaby' is Robert Smith at his best, making nursery-rhyme lyrics come alive alongside the darker ends of modern pop music. No one else was getting into the UK Top 10 with singles like this.
All of the epically long dirges on this album are the crystalization of what this band does best: sustained mood, longing, sadness:
Even the upbeat songs on Disintegration ('Love Song,' 'Fascination Street,' the title track), carry an undercurrent of gloom or melancholy. It is The Cure, of course.
So, where is Robert Smith now? The Cure have been dormant for over five years now and the output of the last 20 years has been hit or miss, mainly miss (or a haze of guitar boredom). Will he ever rise from his slumber and give us something that even comes near Disintegration? No, Bloodflowers wasn't it.
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