Curin' with JT - Part 1 – Uncharacteristic Beginnings and Early “Goth”

JT and I have been at it again, this time tackling the rather lengthy back catalog of the Cure. I think it’s safe to say that, along with the Smiths, the Cure was the musical magnetism that first brought our friendship together nearly 20 years ago. That being said, the importance of this band on our lives, both separately and as the Duo of Awesome, was at one time immense, and doubtless our musical tastes and general perceptions of life and how to live it (to throw in a little REM there) wouldn’t be quite the same without them.

Mad Bob

So, again, when we bash on a record a bit, it’s from the tough love perspective of a true fan who expects much from their heroes and whose disappointment is great when they fail to deliver. I will say here that over the past couple or so releases, our faith (pun intended) in the Cure as a reliable source for inspiring music has rather waned, and we have literally spent hours discussing whether that change was in us as older folks or in the band as, er, older folks. However, with the output of their latest effort, 4:13 Dream, we together found a spark that made us think that Mad Bob and crew still had it, and I think it’s safe to say that we’re both looking forward to any new material with more aplomb than, well, dread.

Before were get started, note that, for you purists our there, we are including Boys Don’t Cry and Japanese Whispers as proper albums, even though they’re technically singles collections for the US market (though we both decided to lump the former in with Three Imaginary Boys).

Also, for the sake of reader digestion, I’m breaking these albums down into four separate posts.

Ok, now that we have that business out of the way, get out your lip stick, your eyeliner, pull on your hair, pull on your pout and let’s move…

Three Imaginary Boys/Boys Don’t Cry (1979/1980)

JT's thoughts: These albums are both extremely strong. They weren’t (totally) punk. They weren’t (totally) new wave. What they had was a very strong set of catchy punky new wavey pop songs that still sound fantastic 30+ years later. The addition of both “Boys Don’t Cry” and “Killing An Arab” gives Boys Don’t Cry the decided edge on rating. (TIB- B, BDC- A)

Favorite: (TIB) “Fire In Cairo”, (BDC) “Boys Don’t Cry”

Least: (TIB) ‘The Weedy Burton’ (BDC)“So What”

Gem: (Both) ‘Another Day”

Me: In 1979 Robert and Co were pretty much jumping on the punk/post punk bandwagon and to me they sound like they’re trying to be the Buzzcocks. That in and of itself is neither good nor bad, just what it is, because the end result is some great pop punk and some, well, songs. Of the two collections, Boys Don’t Cry is the most consistent because it contains all the singles (Killing an Arab, Jumping Some Else’s Train, Boys Don’t Cry) plus the best songs from Three Imaginary Boys (Accuracy, Grinding Halt, Fire in Cairo, Three Imaginary Boys). The problem with Three Imaginary Boys itself is that songs like Meathook, So What and Foxy Lady (the only instance in the Cure of a cover on a proper album or when someone other than Robert took lead vocals) are charming but ultimately uninteresting throwaways, not worthy to stand up against even third tier numbers on Boys Don’t Cry (which are second tier numbers on Three Imaginary Boys) like Object or Subway Song. There’s very little to point to what they would do just a year later (Three Imaginary Boys, Another Day), though occasionally this sound would pop up again in future efforts. Basically, this batch of songs was one to get out of their system, which they do amply in most instances, while others present some of the best examples of the genre. (3IB – B+/BDC – A-)

Favorite: Jumping Someone Else’s Train

Least: Foxy Lady

Gem: Another Day

Seventeen Seconds (1980)

JT's thoughts: The Cure start to come into their own on this album. TIB/BDC were both fun poppy albums, but this album truly sounds like a ‘Cure’ album. There were hints of where the band were headed with ‘Three Imaginary Boys’ and ‘Subway Song’ but I can only imagine the shock on the A&R men’s faces when they heard the album and there were no obvious singles. Having said that, next to the Big D this album has always been my favorite by the Cure...we’ll see if by the end of these reviews I still feel that way. (A+)

Favorite: “Seventeen Seconds”

Least: “The Final Sound”

Gem: “In Your Room”

Me: From the first notes it’s obvious that this is a completely different type of music from the Three Imaginary Boys Don’t Cry era. Augmented to a four piece and with two new members, it’s almost a different band, but I think this has more to do with Robert’s vision than personnel changes. Slower, sparser, stripped of basically all but the barest bones of pop conventions, in a lot of ways Seventeen Seconds is more sketches than fully realized songs. But the ones that are (Play for Today, A Forest, M) remain some of the strongest of the Cure’s early output, while other minimalist offerings (Secrets, At Night, Seventeen Seconds) and a couple of soundscape pieces (A Reflection, Three, The Final Sound) showcase an experimental vulnerability that they would never quite touch on again. There is very little jangle or bounce, even on the more upbeat tunes, and the bleak lyrical imagery, often present on Three Imaginary Boys Don’t Cry, is matched by the music all the way around, as any lightheartedness from before is completely thrown to the side. This is more a mood setter than the depths of despair that would come later, so in a lot of ways Seventeen Seconds is the rough outline of everything the Cure would do for the next couple of years, and even throughout the rest of their career, and should be listened to as a whole instead of dissected song by song. (A)

Favorite: M

Least: At Night

Gem: Secrets

Faith (1982)

JT's thoughts: This is it...this is where the Cure began developing the label that still clings to them despite the variety of phases and sounds the band have gone through. This is the beginning of the Cure as GOTH but it isn’t really. The songs are too strong and timeless to truly be labeled any one thing but, as the press tends to do, they said Goth and 30 years later the Cure are still a Goth band. If this is Goth, this and Pornography have to be the best Goth albums ever released, because Robert never gets lost on making ‘scary’ songs so much that he forgets to make beautiful songs. Suck that Peter Murphy! (A)

Favorite: ‘The Funeral Party’

Least: ‘Primary’

Gem: ‘’The Drowning Man’

Me: Aside from maybe Boys Don’t Cry (or more like Standing On a Beach), I have the most memories of this one pre Disintegration; just dark, foggy nights on childhood FL back roads, freaking out friends with the downbeats and somber lyrics. This one was pretty much a guidepost for me between about 15 and 18 and is still my overall favorite Cure album. But musically speaking, whittled back down to a trio with the loss of keyboardist Matthieu Hartley, Faith is ironically more keyboard heavy than Seventeen Seconds, and the addition of these keyboards, along with more overall F/X, helps to fill out much of the sound, picking up nicely where the latter album left off. Faith also benefits from a more fully developed set of songs, almost all low key, morose outings with plaintive melodies over lush and sweeping or tribal, rhythm-centric backdrops. The best moments of the album are the last two songs, The Drowning Man and title track; minimal, emotive and grief ridden dirges that (along with the Funeral Party) were the first true stamp of the gloomy, gothic shroud that has haunted the Cure, and made them millions, ever since. This album more than any other points to what they would do eight years later with Disintegration, and while they certainly became more frantic and foreboding in the space between, they were never as delicate or lovely. (A+)

Favorite: The Drowning Man

Least: Primary

Gem: Doubt

Pornography (1982)

JT's thoughts: Ok, at times, Robert does get a bit scary on this album, but again he never forgets the craft of song (Again, suck that Peter Murphy!), and while these songs are bleak I never feel anything but empowered listening to this album. The drums are almost tribal and very driving, leading to a feeling that this is perhaps the closest the Cure ever got to recording a ‘metal’’ album. (A)

Favorite: ‘A Short Term Effect’

Least: ‘Pornography’

Gem: ‘A Strange Day’

Me: Turn the despair knob to 11, please. I guess in some ways Pornography is the logical follow up to Faith, at least lyrically, as Robert has gone from pensive to bitter and often acts out his emotions in violence instead of gloomy complacency. Musically it’s so much heavier, so much more biting, abrasive and just downright sinister when compared to the sweeping, elegant heartache of Faith, it’s hard to believe this is the same band. I think the key ingredient here is anger, even fury, and this is most evident with the drums, which are pounded like hammers into anvils, never letting up, and the rest of the instruments follow suit. Even the lightest moment (A Strange Day) is wrapped in mystery and confusion, and the rest of the album is a diatribe that more than once pushes towards murder. But having said that, there is quite a lot of beauty beneath the icy keyboards and drilling guitars, as lovely vocal melodies (The Figurehead, Cold) weave their way in and out of the barrage, making this bitter pill not only bearable, but enjoyable again and again. Turn it up for maximum misery. (A)

Fave: Siamese Twins

Least: A Short Term Effect

Gem: The Figurehead

So Long, Old Friend

As some of you may know, a few months ago I posted about Borders going out of business, an excursion I took with JT to one of their locations and three cheap(ish) purchases I made as a result of their unfortunate (but understandable) demise.

Well, it now seems that the last local Borders standing, the one that I once frequented often, sometimes daily, is in its sunset days. This past Saturday, with music now at 60% off, it seemed like the right time to make a final and farewell visit in order to pay my respects. So we loaded up the kids, headed into “downtown” Brentwood and within five minutes Karla had to take the kids back out to the car because Fox was running around like a whirling dervish on crack. Anyway, some really incredible bargains were to be had…while at the same time, some stuff was still so overpriced that while it was a better deal, the principle wouldn’t let me make the purchase. So it goes.

The closing of Borders though is more than just the end of a business; it marks the near end of an era. With music and books being digitized and/or hard copies made so readily available at our fingertips either at home or on the go, “old fashioned” retailers just can’t compete with the cheapness and convenience of it all. And while there are still plenty of folks like me who like the touch and feel of a CD or book in hand, there just aren’t enough of us to float a big company like Borders…especially when I can get a Beatles album cheaper at Target than I can for the discounted price at Borders (I mean duh, people).

But, as I said previously, Borders is where I discovered a lot of new music, fattened up my back catalog and just in general enjoyed killing 30 minutes to an hour perusing their (once) surprisingly diverse shelves, seeing what was the what at the listening stations. (I remember how annoyed I would get when a more obscure disc wasn’t in their database…but the man’s voice was really sincere in his apology.) Honestly, there was no better way to spend a lunch break without involving nudity and/or the Spivey of your choice.

I remember finding the Go-Betweens best of, Bellavista Terrace, listening to snippets of the first three songs, and heading straight for the register. I remember finding Death Cab for Cutie’s Forbidden Love EP, studying the cover, checking the back for the song titles, and tucking it up under my arm, feeling as if I’d found a secret treasure. I remember when I picked up Love’s Forever Changes, Old 97’s Early Tracks and X’s Under the Big Black Sun, and all the reasons why I sought those artists out. I remember, with a giggle, some guy in his early 50s at one of the listening stations going nuts as he jammed out on the headphones, looking over at a woman and her young son, complete strangers, and saying (in a headphones voice), “Abraxas! I love it. You know? They don’t make music like this anymore. Abraxas!” The woman smiled, nodded and walked off, while he kept rockin’. I remember $5.00 surplus sales (Neil Young’s Harvest), $12.99 for new releases the first week (Strokes’ Is This It) and openly cussing a Magnetic Fields CD because there was no way I was gonna pay $18.99 for The Charm of the Highway Strip. It was all glorious.

My time spent in this manner was effectively brought to a close around 2006 when I started working from home and really had no reason to get away from the office for a bit to clear my head with a rewarding distraction and remind myself that there are some things that make putting up with the humdrum of the daily grind worthwhile. Music basically does that for me, and a lot of the artists I discovered at Borders (or at least picked up there) have inspired me in more ways than I can say.

It was really eerie being there this past Saturday, thumbing through the disarray of well rummaged CDs, like looting corpses after a battle for watches and loose change (you know, not that I’ve done that). I found a couple of “Oh yeahs!!,” and a few “Hmmm, maybes…,” and smirked at the ridiculous surplus of certain artists (I’m laughing directly at you, Sufjan Stevens). It was the most crowded I’d ever seen the place save for the midnight purchases of a new Harry Potter book (yes, I am an uber dork). And while that saddened me, it was mostly because I accepted so well the inevitability of it all. Maybe it’s because I’m older and (even) more jaded, and maybe it’s because Borders sorta had it coming ($31.99 for the Damn the Torpedoes reissue? Really??), but I think also because there’s a certain understanding with life that all things, especially good things, eventually come to an end, all chapters close, and all eras fade away and blend into the next. When I look back, I realize that my Borders years were basically two lifetimes ago.

Borders represents a big part of my “free wheelin’” youth (and yes, I bought the Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan there) because I have always identified personally with the music I listen to, and so it’s only natural that the place where I purchased it would maintain a heavy import (as a kid in PC it’s Camelot music, which is also long gone). But with personal retrospect I realize my youth ended quite some time ago, and while I often wallow in nostalgia, those days are truly gone and the closing of Borders is a bit of a symbolic last nail in the coffin. And I accept that, even if I don’t really like it.

Now as for the music I found, I was lucky to get some good deals on some newer releases by favorite artists that I’d not had a chance to pick up. And I also scored some back catalog stuff that I’d either once owned and lost or heard a lot via other folks but never owned myself. Overall, it was a good haul and a satisfying final Borders expedition.

Let’s dive in…

Superchunk

Superchunk – Majesty Shredding (2010): Superchunk was a huge part of my early college years. I can’t stress that enough. But I jumped off the wagon by the mid 90s, not happy with the less “punk” more “indie” pop approach they took with albums like Foolish and Here’s Where the Strings Come In, even though I realize such a move was both obvious and inevitable. By the end of the 90s, I wasn’t even aware when they came out with a new album. So sad, and stupid too. These guys are real innovators, and proof that indie rock can be anything it wants to be. Anyway, they had been silent for nearly a decade before The Leaves in the Gutter EP proved that they were not only back, but that they had returned to the more “old school” pop punk they were initially known (and loved by me) for. Majesty Shredding is more of the same, yet still splashes liberally in the sounds of the aforementioned efforts, touching on just about everything but the more experimental edges most prominent on 1999’s Come Pick Me Up. The results are quite pleasing, and while it’s not as immediately endearing as No Pocky for Kitty or On the Mouth, it (as msp put it) feels like a grower, and with each spin of these bouncy, amped up tunes, that becomes more obvious. I’m sure I’ll have more to say in the future when it all clicks.

My Bloody Valentine

My Bloody Valentine – Loveless (1991): I got this one for a steal, and it was even a bargain before the discount. This album is basically universally considered the best of the shoegaze genre, a flawless masterpiece and so absolutely “the it” that 20 years on, Kevin Shields and Co have yet dared to attempt a follow up. Such is the wonder and danger of music. Sonic, lush, ethereal, deeply melodic and so haunting it has you jumping at shadows, this is music that allows you to do anything, be anywhere, feel everything, enhancing or changing current moods, a canvas of emotion through music. I mean some guy at FSU wrote a thesis on it, so…let him tell you.

Natalie Merchant

Natalie Merchant – Leave Your Sleep (2010): I’m not sure if Natalie Merchant has hit a bit of writer’s block the past ten years, or just gotten lazy, or really has a legit vision, but Leave Your Sleep is the second release of “songs she didn’t write.” To be fair, that’s just the lyrics in this case, which are all poems by well known poets (Robert Graves, E. E. Cummings, etc) relating to childhood. All teasing aside, this is a solid outing, picking up nicely where 2003’s folk standards, The House Carpenter’s Daughter, left off and moving further away from the alt-pop stylings that made her an alterno superstar, and deeper into a more eclectic, world/ethnic/folk/Americana vibe that in 20 years will sound more relevant than Blind Man’s Zoo does now and is ultimately more rewarding at present. And I’ll just stop there before I really do get mean. (Yes, Natalie, Karla and I are still miffed at you.)

Oasis

Oasis – The Masterplan (1998): B-sides collections can be hit or miss, but when you’re Noel Gallagher in the mid 90s and pretty much everything coming off your guitar strings is either brilliant or crunkin’ brilliant, every song is vital. Morning Glory will, to me, always be their shining masterpiece, and since a good chunk of these songs come from that era, this is a collection that is nearly as essential. Acquiesce, Talk Tonight, Rockin’ Chair and the title track are just four standouts among many that not only make this a great catch all, but just a great album period.

Spoon

Spoon – Girls Can Tell (2001): I had a burned copy of this album that I got from Paul Spivey (you know…) along with Kill the Moonlight, and this one not only squashed the other like a grape, it might be one of the greatest albums ever. Why? Because it’s good. Seriously, it’s that simple. This is rock…indie, alternative, pop, bossa nova, whatever, brands don’t matter, ‘cos at the heart, bones and guts of it all, these tunes are catchy, peppy, angsty, fresh and infectious. If this album was a disease, I’d catch it. If this album was a girl, I’d get it pregnant behind the high school gymnasium. Basically, if it were your mom, I’d be your daddy. But really, it’s great. Get it. Now.

PJ Harvey

PJ Harvey – Let England Shake (2011): I love Polly. But sometimes I gotta treat her like a sister and say, “Look babe, that one sorta stunk.” That’s my feeling (if you’ll remember) on her last effort, an official collaboration with John Parrish, 2009’s A Man a Woman Walked By. And that’s Polly for you, sometimes so out there she polarizes even the biggest fans. And that’s a good thing, ‘cos she’s pushing boundaries and likely one day I’ll get it (and maybe Rid of Me too, which I also hate). Let England Shake, in addition to having the running theme of war and specifically English wars, which is awesome, sheds all but her “signature weird” and musically sounds almost classic 80s New Wave/alternative, which means extremely accessible in a retro/nostalgic way, and yet at the same time completely overhauled and updated for tomorrow’s modern ear as only Polly can. And, being the chameleon that she is, what enhances this even more is that her voice, so unique, so capable, is here often so subdued (though not in a White Chalk way) that it sounds unlike her at all, and more like a wounded Kate Bush, lilting, wandering, and yet set with purpose. It’s the kind of album that approaches differently with each listen, and lingers afterward because the melodies never let up and never leave. If White Chalk isn’t careful, Let England Shake just might take the top spot in my heart.

And that’s it. I will likely never have another Borders experience, at least not at the one where I picked up dozens, maybe even hundreds of albums by nearly as many brilliant, wonderful, life altering artists. So thanks again, Borders, for all the good tunes and for sending me out on a high note. Literally.