I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure
U.S. original release: Seventeen Seconds (1980) - Track 7
Ranking: 7
Few Cure songs have meant more than this one. Throughout the band’s storied canon, you can easily make the argument that no other Cure track has had the impact that “A Forest” has had all these years. “A Forest” is the song that has been performed in concert the most – more than “Boys Don’t Cry” despite being released later. The various studio and remix versions are great, but the best way to hear the song is truly live in concert. It’s practically a spiritual experience where Robert and Simon play in sync face to face. I always liked the song, but I remember the first time I heard it live the song seemed to take on another life. It seemed almost larger than life.
“A Forest”, in many ways, is the quintessential Cure song. It highlights the fact that the whole is far greater than the sum of its parts. Gallup’s iconic bass line beckons and haunts, but it’s nothing without Smith’s counterpart musings on guitar. Hartley’s keys on the original recording seem almost overly simplistic, yet complement the rest of the instrumentation perfectly. The song also captures Smith’s knack for recreating emotions. In “A Forest”, he doesn’t just speak of the fear of getting lost in the forest, he reenacts the fear and pushes the feeling into the listener’s own psyche. My favorite part of the song is when the fear as overwhelming as it becomes, dwindles down to nothing via Gallup’s sputtering bass line closer. Like waking up from a nightmare.
“The girl was never there. It’s always the same. I’m running towards nothing. Again and again and again.”