The Cure

Elektra, 1989


REVIEW BY: Vish Iyer


The Cure sings for itself, or so it seems, with Robert Smith's lonesome lovelorn lyrics - sad stories of his forsaken luck with love, something that he cherishes as much as the sweet moments he would have spent with his true love, if he were ever to find one. "If you are heartbroken, don't waste your tears pining for what you have lost or couldn't just find, but sing sad songs and share your sorrow with millions of others like you and console yourself that you are not the only one whose charm tripped over love and fractured its heart." This is Smith's mantra, and it sure did a hell of a lot to the band -- its longevity proves so.my_heart_sings_the_harmony_web_ad_alt_250

If there is a Cure album that is more loveless than anything else they have created, it is Disintegration. Disintegration is the mother, father, granddaddy and grand-nanny of albums whose feelings have lost their ways in search for their heart's ultimate desires. If art has to interpret a heartsick condition, Disintegration is it. If art has to provide comfort to a broken heart, it is Disintegration.

Disintegration is an album best enjoyed when one is in a state of disrepair. An album that starts off with a song like "Plainsong," which kicks off the album more like it is ending it, needs a lot of patience and heartache to go through the healing journey of Disintegration. Love may not, but the album rewards and reciprocates, only if you empathize with its pain and yen.

This album is a long saga of Smith's tales of love gone all wrong. Somber and melancholic throughout, Disintegration has not one moment of sunshine; it is downcast all the way. It doesn't cry aloud for sympathy. In all its grandiose musical arrangements, it is passionate, but controlled. Perhaps "Lullaby" and "Fascination Street" are the only two anomalies, where the album deviates from what it starts off with and ends with -- moody ballads with a sense of utter hopelessness.

Disintegration, probably Cure's best, has the finest love songs in rock: love seems even more special when it is burdened with the pangs of longing and aching. It is only ironic that the beauty of love lies not in the red roses, but in the wounds that its thorns bleed.

Rating: A

User Rating: B+



© 2004 Vish Iyer and The Daily Vault. All rights reserved. Review or any portion may not be reproduced without written permission. Cover art is the intellectual property of Elektra, and is used for informational purposes only.