Before Three

Because I like sweeping, imperfect analogies, I will say that The Cure is very much the band’s Monster. A big, noisy rock record to follow on the heels of a sometimes-noisy, oft-introspective release. And because I like complete honesty, I’ll say that this album is still “growing” on me. Thinking now about the direction the band has gone in the past couple of years, I am intrigued by the possibilities. They’ve chosen to make noisy rock records just as Porl – undoubtedly their best guitarist – has returned. While I’m a touch skeptical about their production techniques (admit it: the album is a touch unpolished, mm?), I admire the band for choosing to explore such vast stretches of new territory. I am particularly impressed by Robert’s hands-off approach to production – even going so far as to record the album live. For a man who has been known to obsess over recordings, this is perhaps the most surprising aspect of this record.

Of course, you could argue that the most surprising thing about the record is that – given all of these changes and upheavals – it’s actually solid. The tunes themselves are catchy and sophisticated, and the energetic performances are stunning. After the emotional drain of Bloodflowers, it’s encouraging to see The Cure moving full-steam ahead. Which is not to say that the album is without fault. One might argue that the innovations in both music and production are offset by lyrics that, at times, are a bit of a retread. We’re not breaking new poetic or lyrical ground with this album. (Indeed, we seem to be tracing a pretty small circle around the themes of love and heartbreak.) Still, I see reason for encouragement. It’s my hope, and perhaps a foolish one, that the reinstatement of Porl, along with the musical gains from The Cure, will lead to an exciting, engaging new (double!) album. I suppose one might only have to look as far as “Your God Is Fear” to see evidence of this, given Porl’s assistance with that track. (It sounds like a brawny version of a Wish-era b-side, doesn’t it?) As a side point, I suspect that, had I thought of it earlier, this song would have made me rethink my harsh judgments of the recent fate of “Killing An Arab.” Well, partly, anyway.

“Before Three,” then. As I’ve said about the album generally, I find tracks like this one rather catchy. The vocal is confident and energetic, and the music grooves in that summer-radio way. However, I’m afraid I must say that I find the lyrics a bit familiar – perhaps this is simply fatigue brought on by the commonness of the theme? What stands out, of course, is that “up next to you / so fucked and high” lyric. Not that this is the first time that Robert has sworn in song, but, for me, it’s the first time that it feels extraneous. Perhaps this is the consequence of working with a big “nu metal” producer? Hm.

In any case, what really intrigues me in this track is the verse: “And every summer’s sun / I want again / And every winter’s moon / I want the same / My happiest day / My happiest night / Always next to you / And held deep inside / It keeps me alive…” These lyrics present me with two impressions: 1) we finally have a reason for the recursive circles this album traces, and 2) we have a reason for the album being as experimental as it is. The former is easy enough to work out, if we take these lyrics as coming from a place of biography. Our narrator has found what works, and what makes him feel alive, and he’s simply struggling to never move on. An interesting narrative advancement, I think, for an album that begins with “I can’t find myself.” I see my second reason as being intricately tied to this, inasmuch as the “golden years” of The Cure were ones in which each album brought a giant thematic (and often musical) leap away from the preceding one. This drive to create, and explore, new ground was part of what made The Cure so exciting – and it would seem that Robert is afraid that this is starting to fade out. (Consider the recent comments about “writer’s block,” on this point.)

I would argue that this isn’t the case, but that the old boy simply needs to remember himself. Musical innovation is one thing – but part of the excitement of those musical innovations was that they accompanied new poetry. Personally, I’ll take familiar music with new, visceral poetry over bland poetry and radical musical departures. I’ve always been a lyrics guy, I guess. In any case, I suppose we shall see how it all turns out come October. (Or thereabouts!) Until then, I am now armed with my flak-jacket, in case stalwart allies of The Cure come to find me.