"NO WORDS NO MORE" LOVE AND ROCKETS (1989)

For October, the Mental Jukebox is dialing it way back to the eighties and going deep. Deep cuts have always been an important element of music listening to me because they’re often the songs that resonate with me most. Deep cuts are usually the ones that the true fans appreciate most. I like my singles and hits, but I love my deep cuts.

The percussion-cracking “So Alive” descended on just about every radio station in New York City in 1989. I couldn’t get enough of it. So I decided to buy the self-titled album. As fans know, the rest of the album is very different from “So Alive”. Needless to say, it took a while for the record to grow on me. But once it did, I was sold. The album wavers back and forth between a world of motorcycles and a desolate wasteland. Not my cup of tea. But if you’re in the mood, it works wonders with deep cuts like “No Words No More”.

In his hush demeanor, Ash sings of a lazy devil, pools under a blue sky, and people down the street from you and I. For the life of me, I can’t figure out what the song means. But maybe that’s the whole point. There’s no one particular meaning. The song is whatever you make of it. It’s whatever you want it to be. A backdrop for your mind to wander and make something of nothing. And maybe those are the best songs because they invite us to call the shots.

“Even the laziest devil Sits on your youth and you cry. He watches your mistakes. Until the day you die.”

"THE KISS" THE CURE (1987)

Great album openers get the listeners to keep on listening. They can do this in any number of ways. Some openers set the tone by easing us in. Others jump right in and blow our minds from the very beginning. A great album opener isn’t an easy thing to create. More than a great song, it’s all about the sequence. Track 1 has to be the perfect starter. This month, I’m highlighting my favorites. #AlbumOpeningSongs

The double album Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me captured the full spectrum of human emotions. It also showcased the band’s versatile instrumentation, especially on guitar. The rich, vast explorations on the album make it a great one to re-explore. Many people point to The Head On The Door as the start of The Cure’s imperial era, and Disintegration is universally recognized as the band’s masterpiece. Which sorta makes Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me a slightly underrated album, despite housing some of the band’s most well-known singles. One of my favorite tracks is the scorching, perilous opener “The Kiss”.

“The Kiss” is like the evil cousin of New Order’s “The Perfect Kiss”. It’s not a pretty affair. This Track One has four stages in a sprawling magnum opus. First, the lover is beckoned over. In the second stage, the lover becomes the subject of utter infatuation. Quickly, things make a turn for the worse. In the third stage, the lover is now suddenly the subject of disdain. And by the fourth and final stage, there’s nothing left except the protagonist’s wish for the lover to leave this world. In six minutes, it goes from “the” kiss to the kiss of death, flanked by a loud, wailing guitar that’s nearly possessed and Boris’ emphatic pounding on the drums that deliver the final nails in the coffin. Just brilliant in every regard.

“I never wanted this.”

"PAINTED BIRD" SIOUXSIE & THE BANSHEES (1982)

For the month of October, I’m taking the #OctAtoZBandChallenge challenge. The premise is simple. Pick a band starting with the day’s assigned alphabet letter and then choose a song from that band.

Day 19

Not exactly a deep cut, but far from the obvious Siouxsie pick, today I’m going with “Painted Bird” off 1982’s underrated A Kiss In The Dreamhouse. There are some household tracks here: “Melt”, “Fireworks” and “Slowdive” are the biggest ones. The album before – Juju – is perhaps more recognizable. But A Kiss In The Dreamhouse was more daring and more experimental. Exactly the reasons why I chose “Painted Bird” of all Siouxsie tracks.

“Painted Bird” rewrites the rules on just about everything. It uses unconventional time signatures and seems to adjust its tempo mid-track. McGeoch experiments with various guitar riffs, from soaring hooks to shuffled arpeggios. Budgie’s drum kit is transformed into a percussion playground. Severin lends a hand on organ. Siouxsie turns in yet another vivid, gut-wrenching vocal performance. And the last 15 seconds of the song are a testament to the gripping power of an unexpected close.

“On lead-poisoned wings – you try to sing. Freak beak shrieks are thrown – at your confusing hue. The peacock screaming eyes – show no mercy no mercy.”

"FASCINATION STREET" THE CURE (1989)

One of the most powerful things about music is that it is the soundtrack of our lives. Fellow music fanatic Sharon Hepworth started a music challenge on Twitter for the month of July. Each day, fans around the world will select a song from their life and describe what it means to us. These are my songs. #SoundtrackToYourLife

Day 5

If I had to pick just one band to listen to for the rest of my life, The Cure would be it. They are a band that embodies every human emotion in their music. I first discovered them in high school. My friend’s older sister was listening to all the cool music and exposed me to “The Love Cats”, “Why Can’t I Be You?”, “Let’s Go To Bed”, “Boys Don’t Cry”, and countless more classics. But, for me, the Disintegration album will always be the most endearing discovery for me. It was the first album that I heard at the actual time of its release. Even before I got my own copy, select tracks were playing on Long Island’s WDRE, a radio station that has shaped my life’s soundtrack in a big way. One of those great WDRE tracks was “Fascination Street”.

This was one of the first songs I heard from Disintegration, and I’ve loved it from the beginning. It has held up remarkably well over time. This one’s a true banger. Sonically The Cure are in full force here, there’s little nuance, and there’s plenty of force. The instrumental layering that The Cure is so good at here isn’t subtle. On “Fascination Street”, the guitars shimmer and swirl – and erupt in intervals. The keys play a more atmospheric and complementary role on the track – doing just enough and highlighted by those unforgettable arpeggios. The driving force of “Fascination Street”, of course, is the rhythm. Boris’ drumbeats are nearly stumbling over one another while Simon’s bass line crawls insistently inside your head and stays put. Robert doesn’t start singing until the 2:22 mark, and rightfully so. He nails the vocals, but the instruments are the elements that create the thrilling mood of a reckless, liberating night in New Orleans.

“So just pull on your face. Just pull on your feet. And let's hit opening time down on Fascination Street.”

"DISINTEGRATION" THE CURE (1989)

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 10

Ranking: 1

I previously wrote on Mental Jukebox how the task of picking one’s favorite songs from Disintegration seems like an impossible task. The album is simply too deep. There’s not a single second of filler on it. There are so many great tracks that have stayed with me all these years. If I were to state my Top 30 again next month, I may have a different order of songs – excluding some, and adding a few ones. But one song always stay the same. The title track stands above the rest. It’s not only the magnum opus of the album and my favorite song from the band, it’s the quintessential Cure track – both as a produced piece and as a frequent inclusion on Cure concert set lists.

The song opens with the sound of glass shattering, and then immediately hands the duties of keeping the mood alive over to Gallup, who delivers one of his more memorable bass lines. Guitars and keys are given their time to marinate. On “Disintegration”, they’re cascading along a never-ending downward spiral, becoming a microcosm of the entire album that keeps descending further and further into the abyss. Robert’s vocals finally enter the picture at the 1:34 mark. But in the live setting, it’s the critical piece. It’s the element that makes “Disintegration” feel truly immersive. On Disintegration’s title track, we are not passive participants. We are part of the story.

"FROM THE EDGE OF THE DEEP GREEN SEA" THE CURE (1992)

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: Wish (1992) - Track 4

Ranking: 3

The Wish album cover reminds me of the whimsical world of renowned artist Joan Miro. The art didn’t always make you feel happy, but it always made you feel something. Every song on the album accomplished this feat — from ecstasy in “Wendy Time” and “Doing the Unstuck” to euphoria in “High” and “Friday I’m in Love” to sorrow in “A Letter to Elise” and “To Wish Impossible Things”. But the one song that creates in me the greatest emotional response from the album is “From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea”.

A treacherous swamp of feedback and distortion surfaces in the opening of the song, only to pull us in deeper and deeper into the sea. Guitar feedback felt more pronounced on this track and on Wish, in general, compared to all the great Cure albums that preceded it. But “From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea” benefited from an iconic wailing guitar riff that seemed to tug at a dozen different emotions. It feels like that iconic guitar riff is crying and wailing like a human being. It’s the defining element of the song – one which I got to hear live as the band added it to their setlist on the second night at MSG on their 2016 North American tour. Somehow it pulls me in deeper and deeper every time I hear it.

“Looking for something forever gone. But something we will always want.”

"PRIMARY" THE CURE (1981)

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: Faith (1981) - Track 2

Ranking: 4

Faith is one of my least favorite Cure albums. While many of their records have an incredible cohesiveness and consistency matched with exceptional sequencing, Faith’s vulnerability is that it succumbed to including a few filler tracks. When I listen to Pornography or Disintegration, I don’t want it to end. But in the case of Faith, I skip straight to Track 2, and often play it endlessly on repeat. Track 2 captures the essence of The Cure. It showcases their refusal to conform to anything normal. There’s nothing else like it. In fact, “Primary” is even unique as far as Cure standards go.

The bass will forever be my favorite instrument. For me, its rhythmic sounds are always in the foreground, not the background. That’s why the rare song “Primary” by The Cure is such a treat. It doesn’t have a single element of electric or acoustic guitar. Instead, it boasts two bass guitars, played by Simon Gallup, of course, as well as Robert Smith. Dueling, grating bass guitars playing on separate octaves and achieving The Cure’s ambitious post-punk agenda.

“The very first time I saw your face I thought of a song and quickly changed the tune.”

"THE SAME DEEP WATER AS YOU" THE CURE (1989)

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: Disintegration (1989) - Track 9

Ranking: 6

The task of picking my favorite tracks from Disintegration is a lot like splitting hairs. They’re all so good. Truth is, any one of them could’ve ranked as high as #6 on my list of Top 30 Cure songs. Disintegration is one of the most cohesive and exceptional albums I’ve ever heard. Fans often comment on how it’s a perfect rainy day album. This is largely due to two things: the introspective nature of the music and the lyrical preoccupation with water. I will say this about “The Same Deep Water As You” though. Of all the tracks, it’s simultaneously the most morose and the most majestic song on the album. And that’s saying something.

Like many Cure songs, the guitars on this track are laying bare all the emotions of the protagonist in the lyrics. It could be a song about suicide. Or it could be a song about sticking through a relationship that has no positive end in sight. The song’s meaning almost doesn’t matter at all. It’s not about what the song is trying to say, it’s about how it makes you feel. Those ceremoniously monolithic synth notes. The cascading guitar riff that drips, ripples and leaks into your soul. And Robert letting out the words like his final gasp for air before the water level rises over his head. “The Same Deep Water As You” reminds us to embrace every feeling and emotion and give them their proper moment.

“Kiss me goodbye, pushing out before I sleep. Can't you see I try? Swimming the same deep water as you is hard.”

"A FOREST" THE CURE (1980)

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.”

"A STRANGE DAY" THE CURE (1982)

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: Pornography (1982) - Track 6

Ranking: 8

I’m a late bloomer to The Cure’s fourth studio album, considered by many to be among their finest recordings, maybe only bested by Disintegration. The album is incredibly confident, distinct and, most importantly, influential. Pornography is considered to be a significant milestone in the development of gothic rock. While it may not be one of the band’s more accessible outputs, it seems to get better with time. Casual fans might like One Hundred Years and The Hanging Garden best, but “A Strange Day” is my favorite standalone track from the record – and clocks in at my #8 spot.

While I stand by my words that the entire Pornography album has aged extremely well, “A Strange Day” takes things to another level. Not just a blueprint for goth rock, the track is a foreshadowing of post-punk revival. It recalls sounds that began resurfacing in the early 2000s from bands like Editors and Interpol. The instrumental refrain at the 3:30 mark is especially reminiscent of Interpol’s debut album, Turn On The Bright Lights. “A Strange Day” is a dark, monumental display of Smith, Gallup and Tolhurst in complete lock step – from the cold, calculating snare hits and grating guitar riff to the haunting keyboard chords and trickling sound effects.

“Held for one moment I remember a song. An impression of sound. Then everything is gone forever.”

"CHARLOTTE SOMETIMES" THE CURE (1981)

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: Single (1981)

Ranking: 10

A great homage and moment in music history occurred at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame ceremony in 2019. One highly influential person – Trent Reznor – delivered a moving speech and introduction to a band many considered to be one of the most influential acts in alternative and gothic rock. Reznor spoke about the moment he first discovered The Cure on the radio and how the songs gave him a sense of solace. More telling and powerful, he spoke of what The Cure did for all its fans: create a world for us to get lost in. This world is clearly evident in the cloudy, murky beauty of “Charlotte Sometimes”.

I didn’t discover “Charlotte Sometimes” until I got my Standing On A Beach compilation cassette. The song is like a fictitious universe covered in a cloudy haze. Listening to “Charlotte Sometimes” is like stepping into an echo chamber. Smith’s vocals surround us wherever we turn, although he seems like he’s worlds away. The keys create a swirling, encapsulating cocoon for the listener driven by Gallup and Tolhurst’s rhythmic bed. Tolhurst uses electronic drums on this track, reminiscent of incessant, unanswered door knocks.

"PLAINSONG" THE CURE (1989)

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: Disintegration (1989) - Track 1

Ranking: 14

Before Disintegration was released, I heard a few individual tracks on my local alt rock radio station WDRE. If my memory serves me correctly, I heard at least three or four songs before I heard the full album. But that didn’t take anything away from the power of the album for me. There isn’t a mediocre track on the entire record. It’s also an incredibly cohesive album. And then there’s the fact that it opens with one of the strongest, most memorable, most mindblowing openers in music history. The one with the understated title: “Plainsong”.

There’s certainly nothing plain about it. “Plainsong” The track seems to awaken itself. Its slumber is disturbed by movement in the air with opening wind chimes. Then before you know it, the song has thrown itself into a state of catharsis. “Plainsong” is utterly lush. Almost stately in its orchestral wanderings. The protagonist in the lyrics could potentially be caught in a downpour, but it also might very well be a baptism. Smith’s echoing vocals sound like he’s underwater. The synthesizers sound like crystalline reflections sparkling along the surface, joined by Gallup’s bass meanderings that are higher than usual a la Hooky. By the end of the track, the listener is fully submerged. It’s unavoidable every single time.

“Sometimes you make me feel like I'm living at the edge of the world.”

"PLAY FOR TODAY" THE CURE (1980)

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 2

Ranking: 15

I won’t go as far as to say that the darker stuff from The Cure is the only good stuff. But more often than not, the band has been able to create darker moods and explore darker emotions rather successfully. It never feels contrived or overly dramatic when they go in this direction. The dark period began with Seventeen Seconds, an abrupt 180 degree change from Three Imaginary Boys, which contained varying strands of pop and post punk. On Seventeen Seconds, there was a concerted effort to create music more akin to Siouxsie & The Banshees than XTC. The biggest lineup change was Dempsey’s exit who was replaced by Gallup on bass. Almost overnight, the band’s aura and expression changed completely. Seventeen Seconds is one of my favorite Cure records – and “Play For Today” is one of my go-to tracks.

There’s a dark, brooding atmosphere enveloping the album as a whole, but Track 2 marches to the beat of a different drum. The upbeat nature of “Play For Today” stems from the drum part and bass line from which the rest of the song seems to build out from. Smith’s opening guitar harmonics and ensuing grating strums are memorable, but they’re not what drive the song. Even the melody seems to be birthed out of the rhythm section. Hartley’s melodious, single-note ode on the keys hums along the surface and in the spotlight, but even his notes ride the rhythmic bed laid down by Tolhurst and Gallup. Not the other way around. “Play For Today” is a study in restraint. Never in excess. Just enough to work marvelously.

“It's not a case of doing what's right. It's just the way I feel that matters.”

"THE HANGING GARDEN" THE CURE (1982)

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: Pornography (1982) - Track 3

Ranking: 16

Just outside my Top 15 sits the lone single from Pornogrpahy: “The Hanging Garden”. You could easily make the argument that the album shouldn’t have had any singles. It just wasn’t that kind of album. A sort of purge for Smith, the album was a way to get the demons out of his head during a very dark period wrought with suicidal thoughts. It’s one of the finest examples of hyper creativity and expressions born out of desperation, an album best suited to listen in its entirety. But, at the same time, there are a handful of tracks that I can listen to in isolation on repeat. “The Hanging Garden” is one of them.

The song is a perfect example of the influence that Siouxsie & The Banshees had on The Cure’s own musicality. Smith played with Siouxsie briefly in 1979 – and then again the year after Pornography was released. Interestingly, “The Hanging Garden” sounds a lot like early Siouxsie. Tolhurst’s frantic, incessant pounding on his kit are reminiscent of Budgie’s drumming. Gallup’s furious bass playing bares an uncanny resemblance to Steven Severin. And even Smith’s atmospheric guitar riffs sound eerily similar to both McKay’s and McGeoch’s playing style. On “The Hanging Garden”, every instrument – including Robert’s voice – is a rhythm instrument. I think that’s a big reason why I’ve always loved this track so much.

“Catching haloes on the moon gives my hands the shapes of angels. In the heat of the night the animals scream. In the heat of the night walking into a dream.”

"THE FIGUREHEAD" THE CURE (1982)

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: Pornography (1982) - Track 5

Ranking: 22

The album Pornography is widely considered to be among the band’s most influential recordings. It’s one of those albums whose admiration and appreciation seem to grow over time. Its legacy was obvious early on as one of the seminal recordings of gothic rock. But its influence extended well into the early 2000s with bands like Interpol and Editors. Pornography is also one of those albums that’s best suited for listening from start to finish. That said, “The Figurehead” is a standout for me from the album and the band’s catalog at large.

The weight of “The Figurehead” is nearly unbearable. Either it’s pulling you down with it – or it meets you down below where you already are. It’s no coincidence that the songs of Pornography – including this one – coincide with one of the band’s darkest periods, an era ridden with heavy drug use, in-fighting and Robert’s suicidal thoughts. Just as every circumstance surrounding the band felt unbearably heavy at the time this song was written and recorded, every element of the track seems to carry that same heaviness. The deathly drum march. The dense bass meanderings. The tormented, minor-chord musings of Smith’s guitar. And the overwhelming sense of finality echoing out of his mouth and mind.

“I can never say no to anyone but you.”

"UNTITLED" THE CURE (1989)

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: Disintegration (1989) - Track 12

Ranking: 24

This is the second song from Disintegration to appear on my top 30 and the final track on the record. Cure fans have many favorites on Disintegration, but what makes the album so special is its song sequence and cohesiveness. It is indeed one of those albums that you have to listen to all the way through to appreciate how great it is. Disintegration hovers in a middling malaise for its first five tracks, then starts to ramp up with “Lullaby” and hits its emotional peak with “Fascination Street”. From there, tracks 8-12 take the listener on a downward spiral, deeper and deeper into despair, culminating in the closing track, “Untitled”.

To simply cast this song as a “doom and gloom” dirge is to overlook the humanity of its lyrics. “Untitled” is not about misery, it’s a song about regret. A song that pinpoints that utterly hopeless feeling of things left unsaid with no time to do it all over again. In his brief stint with The Cure, Roger O’Donnell plays the keys like a funeral procession, the final nail in the coffin. The sound is much more akin to an accordion than the more common grand and symphonic tones of The Cure. The downward spiral on “Untitled” occurs over and over again with Williams’ cascading drum tumbles. How rare it is to hear a song that’s seemingly lifeless, but actually full of life.

“Never quite said what I wanted to say to you. Never quite managed the words to explain to you. Never quite knew how to make them believable.”

"M" THE CURE (1980)

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 8

Ranking: 27

One of the most revered albums in The Cure canon, Seventeen Seconds had a cohesiveness about it that was just perfection. Each song bled right into the next. The Cure’s reputation as a doom & gloom band was solidified here – from the sullen sparseness of the opening track “A Reflection” to the closing title track’s repetitive, dizzying state. A few songs in my top 30 hail from this hallmark record, starting with the track only titled with the letter “M”, his nickname for his then girlfriend, now wife of nearly 40 years, Mary Poole.

Smith’s minor chord-laden guitar riff on “M” are beautiful and unforgettable. It’s doubtful that Nirvana intentionally used it for Cobain’s riff in the verses for “About A Girl” more than 10 years later. But the riffs are eerily similar. What’s important to remember about “M” is that Robert Smith was a highly influential and extremely underrated guitarist. His unique frontman presence and songwriting prowess have overshadowed his guitar chops all these years. But his riffs and the way he plays off of Gallup’s bass lines throughout Seventeen Seconds is a thing of beauty.

“Sing me a line from your favorite song. Twist and turn but you're trapped in the light.”

"CLOSEDOWN" THE CURE (1989)

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: Disintegration (1989) - Track 3

Ranking: 30

I’m starting off with a song from Disintegration. And by the time this countdown is over, I’ll be covering off on many more from the same legendary album. The process of choosing my top 30 Cure songs is both exhilarating and excruciating. How do you narrow down from such a rich, vast catalog as The Cure’s? The very act of rating my favorite songs seems almost futile when I look at “Closedown”, the song that barely made the list at #30. Here’s a song that on any given day might be the only song I really need. It’s always been this way for me – from the very first time I heard it.

I was one of the lucky ones to hear “Closedown” before May 2, 1989, the day Disintegration was released out into the wild. My local alt rock station, WDRE, got its hands on the track and was playing it on heavy rotation despite its non-single status. “Closedown” is the anti-single. It has seven lines of lyrics in total. Just one verse without a chorus. But those seven lines are something else. The common interpretation of Disintegration – and most Cure albums, for that matter – is that the subject is dark and gloomy. But on “Closedown”, there’s a glimmer in the final line. In his final hours, the protagonist (Robert himself?) utters what he truly longs for: love – above all else.

“If only I could fill my heart with love.”

"DAZZLE" SIOUXSIE & THE BANSHEES (1984)

For the month of October, I’m selecting a song each day from the decade that has the most meaning to me: the 80s. It was the decade that I grew up in. The period of time where I discovered my love for music — and explored many different genres. For the next 31 days, I’ll highlight a handful of songs that I truly loved and that were representative of the decade. #31DaysOf80sSongs

Siouxsie & the Banshees may be one of the most criminally underrated bands of all time. In fact, one of the most important bands of the post-punk era was inspired by them. That band, of course, is The Cure. Robert Smith’s stint w/Siouxie & the Banshees gave him a taste of everything he wanted in a band. It’s safe to say, without Siouxie there would be no Cure. The band excelled in recreating classics like “The Passenger” and “Dear Prudence” as well as crafting danceable tracks like “Peek-A-Boo”, “Happy House” and “Cities in Dust”. But they also had a flair for the epic, which is on full display in “Dazzle”.

“Dazzle” is majestic at times and sinister in other moments. It more closely resembles an orchestral movement than a rock song. What I love about “Dazzle” most is the turn from sweeping ballad to gothic explosion at the 1:17 mark. The track feels more like a black and white movie than a song, with the aforementioned explosion its car chase scene. “Dazzle” is a cinematic experience, doing what all great post-punk songs do — creating a scene where our minds can escape to over and over again.

“The stars that shine and the stars that shrink. In the face of stagnation the water runs before your eyes.”

"PLAY FOR TODAY" THE CURE (1980)

For the month of October, I’m selecting a song each day from the decade that has the most meaning to me: the 80s. It was the decade that I grew up in. The period of time where I discovered my love for music — and explored many different genres. For the next 31 days, I’ll highlight a handful of songs that I truly loved and that were representative of the decade. #31DaysOf80sSongs

I’ll never forget how Trent Reznor described The Cure at their Rock & Roll Hall of Fame induction ceremony. He mentioned that the band managed to create a world for their fans to get lost in. I second that. Step into that world and you’re guaranteed to experience and feel things that you haven’t before. Step out of it and suddenly things feel banal. It’s hard for me to listen to other things after listening to a Cure album. Nothing else seems to measure up. One of the early tracks captures the unique musicality of the band. The song is called “Play For Today”.

The song is dark, brooding and urgent. Tolhurst is the one driving it. From the first snare hit, he almost sounds like the Joy Division-era of Stephen Morris. The guitar starts with those beautiful harmonics before falling into Smith’s characteristic strums. Gallup’s bass line is simple and moody, and everything I love about The Cure. It’s less ornate than the bass player before him. And Hartley’s synth just hums along in the background. “Play For Today” was a template for The Cure moving forward. It’s all about creating layers of simple, moody instrumentation. Never in excess. Always just enough.

“It's not a case of aiming to please. You know you're always crying. It's just your part in the play for today.”