The Cure - 4:13 Dream

Mon 17th Nov, 2008 in Music Reviews

The discography of a band of The Cure’s calibre is as tumultuous as life itself; the finding of feet, identity-searching, intra-personal conflicts and mood phases amid moments of pure joy and success. A band that can range from mournful Faith (1981) moments, the giddying heights of pop in In Between Days, the upbeat tango of The Caterpillar, the post-punk electronic of A Forest, and the manic jazz of The Lovecats is almost infallibly uncategorisable.

And they are just some of the singles. Robert Smith, having sung and played guitar for the band for a staggering 32 years, is the quintessential band leader. Once unintentionally carving the band’s – œanti-image’ as darkly nihilistic and suicidal gothic rockers, Smith and the band pushed for a – œpop’ re-launch, producing albums such as The Head On The Door (1985) and singles Friday I’m In Love, Just Like Heaven and Why Can’t I Be You?, among dozens of others.

Indeed, Cure songs can be pinned to the current mood of the band members themselves, tapping on the current clime of inner-band relationships. Themes have moved from claustrophobia ( Close To You ), to unabashed love ( Pictures of You ) and – œthrowaway stupid pop songs’ ( Let’s Go To Bed ). In the last five years, after many Best Of compilations and festival appearances, all seemed to go quiet on The Cure front. Aside from the recent spellbinding (and epically long) live shows, an album of substance was long overdue.

2008 sees the release of 4:13 Dream, the thirteenth studio album for Crawley, England’s notorious perfectionists. Originally intended as a double album, at first listen, it appears as though each track has been plucked from different Cure-eras, evoking separate emotions and past images of The Cure. Opener Underneath the Stars is signature atmospheric Cure at their best, dreamy Lullaby-esque vocals and psychedelic guitar wails. Here Keith Uddin’s sweeping production is at its best, amplifying the eeriness and sheer beauty of Smith’s vocals whilst resisting the urge to over wash all with sound FX (ahem, 2004’s The Cure ).

Many songs feel as though they have been scooped off the cutting room floor from previous recording sessions, and one actually has. Sleep When I’m Dead was originally intended for 1985’s Head on the Door, and sounds just as energetic and fresh as my birth year. These songs-reminiscent-of-other-songs are by no means lacking in quality – in fact they are some of the highlights of the album. Lead single Only One, Just Like Heaven’s doppelgänger, is an ode to love of lips and skin and bones, full of lusciously-odd lyrics such as, “I love what you do to my head/It’s a mess up there.” It is the stuff Cure fans of the – œ80s positively salivate over.

A few songs in, we get Freakshow, which is about as frenzied and staccato as parts of Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me, yet is not as exciting as it promises. Hungry Ghost is a blissful, stripped back affair for Jason Copper (drums) and Simon Gallup (bass), and Smith’s voice melds into Porl Thompson’s guitar mastery. The price Smith pays for happiness in songs such as Sirensong, Switch, Scream and It’s Over is listener boredom – they simply underwhelm.

However, the wah-laden and lilting This. Here and Now. With You is an absolute beauty in the Cure catalogue. It channels the pop-fun of Six Different Ways whilst ever-treading the borders of sadness. Real Snow White is a moodier nursery rhyme moment for Dream, yet only manages a customary nod in comparison to some of its fellow material. It is the infectious Perfect Boy that reignites the passion mid-record, a song that makes me wish I was the – œperfect boy’ Smith chirps about. One could only hope for more inspired tracks such as this.

When criticising an album from a band as loftily high in the echelons of rock as The Cure, it will always be safe to say that even their lousier work is still a head-and-shoulders above their contemporaries, if not only for Smith’s extraordinary voice. But I myself, along with the band themselves, are perfectionists, and we are forever striving for the perfect Cure record. Whether that will be in the form of another Staring At The Sea singles collection, your guess is as good as mine.

For each irresistibly sublime moment on 4:13 Dream we are given a throwaway sibling, however it is definitely a better ratio than we saw on 2004’s self-titled ramshackle affair. The original spark is still there, by the name of Robert Smith, and he is capable of pumping out brilliant material to this day. I just wish to see more of it.

4:13 Dream is out now on Geffen.