Send "The Cure " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 The Cure are nearly three-and-a-half decades deep in the game and have never been shy about monetizing their seemingly boundless recorded output. So it's something of a surprise that Bestival 2011 is their first official live record since 1993's Paris and Show double-shot that capitalized on Wish boosting the band to its commercial zenith. The Cure have kept busier than a band of its status has needed to since then, releasing four studio records, a second Greatest Hits, and an intimidating, comprehensive B-sides collection, while Robert Smith parlayed his godfather status into guest spots on Blink-182 and Crystal Castles singles. But these things are often as novel as their setlist, and Bestival's intentions could not be clearer, accounting for the Cure's existence between 1993 and 2011 with a grand total of 10 minutes of music.Then again, in a setting such as this one, fans who paid a couple days' salary for festival tickets like to have their preconceptions confirmed. Since Paris and Show, that's a one hot album every 18 year average-- and I say that aware that a lot of people don't even have an abnormally generous relationship with Bloodflowers like I do. But even if the Cure's discography is riddled with redundancies, the question becomes: Whom is Bestival even for? Particularly if completists almost certainly own Show and Paris, and newcomers to the band can and often do start with Staring at the Sea? Particularly without a visual accompaniment, Bestival can best be viewed as a testament to the band's longevity and stylistic breadth, certainly worthy aims when the insular tangents (The Top) and creative oases (anything since the Clinton administration) are given a nod. But while Besitval speaks highly of the Cure's professionalism, it never catches spark save for a performance of "The Caterpillar", reportedly their first since 1984. And since each song sticks so closely to the script, there's never much development of an internal narrative to make this particular performance sound worthy of documentation, though you could let your ears go soft and see it as a sort of Benjamin Button effect where they scale from their most regal and sumptuous ("Plainsong", "Open") to...full text |
| Bbc |
| When The Cure – the band Robert Smith formed with schoolmates in Sussex sometime in the late 1970s – played 2011’s Bestival back in September it marked their first UK show in some two years. But little had changed in the band’s world – unsurprising, really, as few contemporary bands can claim to have spanned features in Sounds, Smash Hits and NME (collecting a Godlike Genius Award along the way) with such enviable ease. From the early 80s it took them no time to hollow out the energy of punk into something bleak and beautiful – and like all great bands they quickly created their own universe. Once the listener-in-waiting gets past this set’s awful bootleg-like cover – it might be a charity release, benefitting the Isle of Wight Youth Trust, but nothing can excuse this lazy effort – the sound quality is wonderful, immediately putting aside any fears of bootleg quality presentation in that department. Punk allowed anyone to be a frontman, and Smith lets his singing do the talking here. It is the Gothfather and company’s fifth live album, their first since 1993, and captures their current vitality as a live band. Their two-and-a-half hour sets are frequently described as ambitious, which implies they might struggle to meet the demands of such a duration. But few can forget the number of hits they’ve had – easily enough to fill a lengthy performance. Close to Me, The Lovecats and Boys Don’t Cry all feature on what might seem a marathon listen to the casual fan; but to the hardcore crowd, this stirs memories without anyone losing the way back to their tent. The opener, Plainsong, confirms rumoured changes in The Cure’s line-up, with the return of Roger O’Donnell on keyboards. These are presented to the fore of the mix, offering a very different sound following six years of the band operating as a trio. The brooding magnificence of A Forest threatens to overshadow the first half of the set, but it’s neatly pruned, as tight and otherworldly as its studio version. And the song’s in good company as the band casts a luxuriously hypnotic spell on the senses, getting through more material on two discs than most bands do across a career. From the scratchy dark funk of Play for Today to the half-awake sensuality of The Only One from their last album, 2008’s 4:13 Dream, it’s effortless. ...full text |
| Clashmusic |
| With the rain managing to hold back, The Cure took to the windswept main stage, fog bellowing cinematically into the crowd. Guitarist Porl Thompson noticeably missing, former keyboardist Roger O'Donnell filled the void in a surprise appearance, adding an extra layer to the many classics coming. 89's 'Plainsong' started off proceedings, its sparse melodic arrangement setting the tone for the night, the crowd swinging and swaying in unison. A band of little words the group let the music do the talking for the most point with tracks from nearly all 13 albums making an appearance. Testament to The Cure's legacy was the ability to drop some of their biggest hits such as 'Just Like Heaven' and 'Friday I'm In Love' relatively early in the set and still have plenty left in the tank for later. 80's anthem 'A Forest' was a sure winner, O'Donnell's vintage synthesiser and the moonlit sky bringing the gothic groove. Similarly rock enthused 'Shake Dog Shake' from trippy album 'The Top' got all present banging their heads, pumping their fists and screaming for more. Despite the odd number here and there tonight's incarnation of The Cure was a less brooding beast, the reintroduction of keys for the first time proper in six years bringing the opportunity to pop things up. Being a band of two halves sticking to a more upbeat path proved no problem, Robert Smith reminding all of his ability to craft those great three minute love songs. Later, with special Bestival competition guitar strapped on, which weighed "more than a fucking car" according to the frontman, 'Lullaby''s hypnotic tale of death and spiders upped the ante for the set's second half. Greatest hits owners immediately got their moneys worth with the appearance of 'The 'Lovecats' followed by the equally infectious hot hot hot and why can't I be you. As a special treat 'The Caterpillar' was dragged from the vaults making its first live appearance in many many moons - the band themselves looking pleased with how well the track went down....full text |
The Cure lyrics
|
| |||||||||||||
