The Cure Album: “Disintegration”

You could have knocked me over with a feather when I heard The Cure's "Pictures of You" in an advertisement for some camera or film on TV recently. But I did have to stop for a second to listen to this classic song. It brought back many memories and once again I had to pull out the CD and listen to "Disintegration," something I hadn't done for several years.

In 1989 when "Disintegration" was released I drove my family and friends nuts with multiple playings a day at home and in my car. What was it I was/am attracted to in this particular CD? The glorious sound of it of course, the voice (Robert Smith is a God), the lyrics, the general mood of despair and sadness for sure. But with all of that said, "Disintegration" is always hopeful, always "up." The Cure revels in their downtrodden and bleak view of life but they do it with a wink, a knowing smile and not a smirk; which pretty much says it all in regards to them and their music. And anyone familiar with their playful "Let's Go To Bed" has to agree: they're misanthropes with hope, if that makes any sense at all. The Cure are of the Light not of The Darkness.

"Disintegration" would definitely be on my list of CD's I'd have to take with me if I were sent to spend the rest of my days on a desert island, so that I could forever marvel at their wit, their attitude, their playfulness and their unrelenting spirit and drive to make this world a better place in which to live. I'd listen to "The Same Deep Waters as You" over and over, until I wasted away to nothing and returned to the earth from whence I had come.

It's hard to come up with anything to say about DISINTEGRATION that hasn't been said hundreds of times before. On this album the Cure take the dark mood of their "goth" period to a new level by expressing it in the context of pop music, resulting in a lush, emotional album that is as amazing for its accessability as its quality.

The Cure are able to keep the listener's interest through the soundscapes alone, never mind the irresistable melodies and the best lyrics of Robert Smith's career. The individual songs are stunning in their emotional impact, particularly "Fascination Street" and the jittery "Lullaby," but the whole of DISINTEGRATION is much, much greater than the sum of its parts. Listening to the songs out of context doesn't do this album justice; it begs to be heard in one sitting, with the volume turned way up (just like the liner notes tell you to do) to let the gloom wash over you. This is the best rainy day album in history, and I doubt it will ever be challenged.

Recommended for all fans of any kind of music.

i admit i was never the biggest cure fan in the world. i thought kiss me, kiss me, kiss me had some great songs ('hot, hot, hot,' 'catch,' 'like cocatoos,' 'why can't i be you?' and, of course, 'just like heaven') and i was mildy amused by songs like 'the walk,' 'let's go to bed' and 'inbetween days.' i remember being in high school and watching postmodern MTV (when MTV actually had a redeeming quality) every night with that goofy host, kevin seal, and ocassionally catching a cure video (me, well, i was more in the DM camp instead of the cure). don't get me wrong, i liked the cure, but to my adolescent mind they couldn't top the mighty mode.

however, my opinion of the cure forever changed when i saw the 'world premiere' of the video for 'fascination street.' who was this new cure? robert smith and co. always gleefully played in the darkness, but 'fascination street' seemed more purposeful and direct than previous cure songs i'd heard. it kept the cure's trademark darkness, but there was something else to it. what was it? 15 years on i still don't know.

i went to the sadly defunct crandall audio in orem, utah and bought 'disintegration' with my hard-earned lawnmowing money that week (i still have the old cd 'longbox' cd's used to come in). nothing could've prepared me for the beauty of the album's opener (and standout, in my opinion), 'plainsong.' everyone who's said 'disintegration' (appropriately titled, by the way) is a moody, atmospheric album is spot-on. few albums drum up the raw emotions we all feel inside quite like 'disintegration.' it was an interesting blend of peddled-guitars, tinny bass, spooky synths, and robert smith's trademark yalps.

it was shortly thereafter i saw the video for 'lullaby.' i thought i was having a nightmare. it's still a brilliant song and the second best song on the album (in my opinion). most of us will also probably feel some nostalgia for 'pictures of you,' and 'love song,' too. they're the kind of love songs that could only come from the cure.

as someone else correctly noted, 'disintergration' is very much a concept album. how else do you explain every song coming in at 5+ minutes? (well, most anyway). in short, 'disintegration' is indeed the cure's defining moment, much like 'violator' was depeche mode's, 'the innocents,' was erasure's, 'earth sun moon' was love and rocket's, and 'technique' was new order's. now that i think about it, the late 80's and early 90's had some truly great music. 1989, the year of 'disintegration,' is particularly noteworthy.

if you're new to the 'movement,' 'disintegration' is essential listening. it's huge, bold, experimental, purposeful, direct, nebulous, moody, eerie, creepy, spooky, heartbreaking and ultimately beautiful.

i'm still not a huge cure fan, but i'll disintegrate anytime.

Ambitious, emotional, utterly brilliant; those are just a few adjectives to describe this Cure masterpiece from 1989. The aura is evident right away on "Plainsong," from the ethereal sound to the echoey vocals, to the way it seems to take the album a while to get going, this is one special piece of music, which continues the entire way through. Robert Smith takes a long time before singing on most of these tracks, as if he's purposely hoping to lull listeners into the sound and mood he's in. The drums on most of these tracks are simply played, big and booming, '80s style, amid a whirlwind of more complex music that is consistently grandoise and sweeping.

A hopeless romantic, lead singer Smith wears his heart on his sleeve when he passionately sings. Musically, the guy is pretty boundless: The quiet guitar hooks are honest-to-God hooks that sweep you in, and the same can be said for the more important keyboard work on the album from Roger O' Donnell, which makes for an extremely catchy combination, despite the overall dark ambiance. At 73 minutes long, nothing on this album is chintzy; it doesn't skimp out on anything, and thus, listeners will get a lot out of it in more ways than one.

Not surprisingly, the dark pop radio hit "Lovesong," at three minutes, 28 seconds, is sort of an oddity on "Disintegration," as much for its short time span as its quick, get-to-the-point message. Another anamoly is the fabulous "Lullaby," a quirky tune with breathy vocals. From the fragments of an anxiety-filled dream, the song comes off as entertaining and humorous, especially given the generally somber mood of the rest of the album.

The meat of these outstandingly created, brilliantly windy songs takes place at the dark but somehow joyous and experiment-seeking "Fascination Street." From that point on, no song is under six minutes. "Prayers for Rain" is bold but majestically hopeless and desperate-sounding; "The Same Deep Water As You" owes a debt to the Doors' lulling rain-drenched intro and outro heard on "Riders on the Storm." Actually, both songs possess the same seductively mellow vibe that slowly draws listeners in. The title track has a much more immediate effect, an apologetic urgency, a sound of admittance, shame and guilt. Its simple piano hook is repetative and beautiful, making the long song perhaps the best one on the album.

Though the final two tracks sound a bit tacked on, they're outstanding tunes, and they fill out "Disintegration" with grace, surely what Smith was going for. "Homesick" retains the spacey, atmospheric vibe of earlier songs, while "Untitled" might be the prettiest, most stripped-down tune on the entire record. Overall, this album is best heard as an entire entity -- if you have the time, that is. No doubt, if you're seeking solace on an endless windswept prairie of sounds, this is the music for you.

20 years ago this week I became a fan of The Cure. I was 14 years old and had just moved to a new school so I knew absolutely no one. After a week or two or three or whatever of hazing from the upper-classmen, I found that the one place the jocks and the Future Farmers of America did not go was the art room. All of a sudden I took a deep and abiding interest in Cubism and Postmodern architecture and found exactly 42 minutes of refuge right before lunch. There I met a kid named Chris. Chris probably went to your school too: Jim Morrison hair, John Lennon glasses and a "Meat is Murder" t-shirt. In retrospect, Chris was a jerk; but he had excellent taste in music. A year earlier Faith No More had made it OK to listen to "College rock" or the "Underground" or whatever we called Alternative music before there was such a thing. I had my fill of Motley Jovi and wanted something with a little more depth to it. What I got would forever alter the way that I listen to music.

It was on a surprisingly cool September morning when the art class went on a field trip (a whole day with no jocks, score!). Chris, as usual, ignored the world and hid in the back of the bus with his Sony Walkman. For whatever reason, when I asked him what he was listening to he took some measure of pity on a lowly Freshman and handed me the headphones. I don't remember the song. I remember staring out of the window, watching trees and cars blur by as the singer wailed over distorted guitars, pounding drums and layers of sythesizers. Some time went by, who knows how long, but Chris came to his senses and realized that this dork did not have ears qualified to listen to his Walkman. He held out his hand and I reluctantly turned over the headphones. Without asking, Chris spoke the last two words that he said to me all day: The Cure.

Somewhere along the line I purchased Disintegration second-hand at a record store. Even at the tender age of too young to drive I recognized that I was listening to something extraordinary. From the way "Plainsong" doesn't really start so much as announce its presence, to the way "Untitled" dies off and attempts to carry you with it into Oblivion, Disintegration was the first record I heard that mattered. Every bit of it seemed profound and difficult and undeniably essential. As Gallup's opening bass riff to Fascination Street blares in the background while I type this, the album still evokes those same emotions and responses. There's no greater testament to a record's strength than to see how it stands the test of time. This is undeniably Robert Smith's piece de resistance (thanks art class!), but the argument could be made that Disintegration was the musical high water mark for a generation. You can list any number of great albums from this era with ease, but Disintegration is art, plain and simple.

The album manages to be sonically vast in its scope, while at the same time coming off deeply personal and reflective. There is a dichotomy between the dark symphony that the layers of synths and rhythmic drumming create and Smith's loathing, mournful and deeply personal lyrics. While "Love Song" was written as a wedding gift for his wife, Robert sings of a torturous relationship in "Prayers for Rain" and, as the final notes play backwards, you get the sense that rain is ascending, not falling. One more unanswered prayer, I suppose. This gives way to "The Same Deep Water as You" and a deluge of longing and synths and rain mix together for the next nine minutes or so of your life. Is there a more visually evocative album than this?

20 years, a career, a wife and two children later, I'm grateful that this album still resonates with me. Our parents, musical elitists that they were, turned their noses up to punk, post-punk, hardcore and synth-pop; dismissing my generation's music as "soulless". Disintegration stands in direct opposition to this line of thinking; granting those who care to explore it a dark, sometimes whimsical, but ultimately beautiful journey that has never seen its equal.

I have to doubt that it ever will.