The Cure is one of those bands I love, really love, that I didn’t own anything by. Sometimes a band’s back catalog is so extensive you just don’t know where to start. I mean, I could walk into a record store and buy the one Friday I’m In Love on it but then some kind hipster goliath will come out nowhere and be like “you’re buying the one with Friday I’m In Love on it just because Friday I’m In Love is on it? GET OUT.”
So fuck it I’ll just start at the beginning. These Imaginary Boys 1979. I listened to it for the first time on the way to work this morning and, as usually happens to me, I was so preoccupied with whether I liked it or not I didn’t know if I liked it or not. but after work when I qued it up again I felt some affection for it. It’s definitely post-punk – the musical elements of punk, minus aggressive guitars, but a different essential attitude. It’s disaffected, it’s anti-social, it’s so clearly a precursor to goth. I love how crappy the drums sound especially, like he’s too cool to really bash away, too punk to play slower, and in 1979 I guess they didn’t have drums mics ’cause it’s so clearly just overheads, you can’t hear the kick but the hihat is right in your ear and dry as a bone.
I find the whole record cute like that. Even lyrically I find it juvenile in a good way. the songs are dark but not unfunny. even Killing An Arab, which long before I knew anything about The Cure I assumed was about Albert Camus’ the Stranger because it was my favourite book for a long time, is so high school level writing that it makes me smile. Since the plan is to listen to all 17 albums I guess it’s okay to seem underdeveloped on record one.
I decided to go really slow with this project because records are so much better when you take the time to get to know them, not just see if you like it and move on, that’s a pop music mentality. So sometime next week or so expect the next album, Seventeen Seconds.