The Cure have finally come to terms with their past with the best show of theirs I have ever seen.

After 30 years, The Cure should, by rights, be washed up. An artistically redundant nostalgia act. Returning to the cavernous, and soulless Wembley Arena - possibly one of my least favourite venues in the universe - The Cure manage the rare trick of making this enormous void of a shed feel intimate, and this lineup - still ‘new’ by Cure standards at three years old, acquits itself as quite possibly the best lineup of the group thus far. Over three and a half hours and 41 songs, The Cure perform a show that should, by rights, be regarded as legendary : travelling every edge of their work from the nihilism of “Disintegration” to the flippantly clever pop of “Friday I’m In Love”

Previous Cure shows I have seen since the end of the 1996 tour - Roskilde in 2001, Manchester in 2004, The Albert Hall in 2006 - have all seen the band suffer from what departed guitarist Perry Bamonte called ‘a lack of confidence’ - and, stung by the commercial failure of “Wild Mood Swings”, the band reverted to type and produced a series of records that seemed almost a parody of The Cure, comprising all shade and no light, perversely ignoring the bands poppier material in favour of a relentless grind of epic, doom-laden miserable tracts. Finally, after spending a decade in denial of the richness of their back catalogue, The Cure appear to have come to terms with their past - and thus, perform a show that encompasses the whole of their work in a cohesive, brilliant whole.

Despite the absence of a keyboard on stage, it’s fair to say that The Cure have never sounded bigger. Guitarist Porl Thompson (an on/off member of the group since their 1976 inception) now revels in his role as the bands musical orchestra - effortlessly reproducing the lush keyboards of the group with a fluid and finely honed guitar tone, as well as the heavier sound of the groups more aggressive material with a bite and panache that the material had often lacked. Robert Smith, erstwhile and sole original member of The Cure throughout their various incarnations, meanwhile acquits himself with busy and expansive guitar work whilst the solid rhythms of Simon Gallup and relative new-comer Jason Cooper (with only 13 years in the group) produce a dynamic and effective rhythm section. Taking a cue from the very early shows when a three-man Cure fulfilled their sound with keyboard parts triggered with Robert Smiths foot pedals, the band follow this template to see occasional keyboard parts filling in the sound. In fact the only time the keyboard sounds are clearly missed are during “Play For Today” - a minor indulgence that sees the keyboard melody sung vocally by 13,000 people



Having seen four different lineups of the group seven times over the past sixteen years, tonights show - at an epic and comprehensive three and a quarter hours and 41 songs - is probably the finest Cure show I myself have seen. Despite the fact that they overlook a couple of their later albums (with nothing from “Wild Mood Swings” or “Bloodflowers” offered), this show is a comprehensive and thorough overview of their career.

During the course of the show, the band hit a level of emotional intensity and variety rarely seen in modern music : the only quibble I could have is in the order of songs played - the arena transforms from a massive party during the middle section of the main set which sees 10 singles played in a row to, in the blink of an eye, to a subdued and depressed cavern when the band move from the glorious Technicolor of “Push“, “Inbetween Days“, “Friday I‘m In Love“, “Just Like Heaven“ and “Primary” to the careful, sensitive monochrome of the mogadon “A Boy I Never Knew”: it’s a great song, but sitting on the back of a forty minute selection of the bands best known and loved singles to then premiering a downbeat sensitive acoustic lament thoroughly destroys the momentum achieved, and one the band struggle to regain until the encores as they obviously lose the goodwill of the audience during a subsequent procession of miserable and intense 7 minute album tracks : damn fine songs they are, but existing to an extent within a vaccum.

With 16 encores the band perform longer in their encores that most bands achieve in their own right - the first and third encore sets are devoted respectively to their second and first albums, whilst the second sees the resurrection of the rarely performed “LoveCats” and a string of hit singles from the 80’s. In the cavernous Wembley Arena, most of the venue is on its feet in an act of unconscious, telepathic communion : and perhaps surprisingly, the huge expanse of space that separates the standing and seating section is filled during the encores with a spontaneous dance floor of happy, celebrating souls who have trickled down from their assigned seats at the very back of the venue to no small annoyance of the venues ‘bouncers’. What this does prove is that The Cure, in whatever form they are - and this current lineup is possibly the most cohesive and strongest lineup the band has had since the 1985-92 glory days - can unify and communicate to all, cutting through the bullshit and the pretence, and creating a legacy of no small import. The Cure proved - if there was any doubt whatsoever in anyone’s mind - that legends are often such for a very good reason, and that the flame is far from spent.

Photos by OnThatDizzyEdge

Only registered users can write comments.
Please login or register.

Powered by AkoComment 1.0 beta 2!