2005 - Rolling Stone (Italy)
* (Translation below)
THE CURE 1978 |
4th December, 1978; Killing an Arab, the first Cure single, came out.
The first rehearsals room of the future Cure (at that time it was called Malice, in 1975) was a hall in the sacristy of the St. Edward deconsecrated church in Crawley, Sussex. Robert Smith and friends went to that every Thursday night to gain experience by playing David Bowie and Marc Bolan songs. Then, it’s unnecessary being astonished at the “dark” label, left stuck on the band for over a quarter of a century... But limiting ourselves to the only aesthetic or suicidal-depressive heritage would be unfair, although The Cure was the paper-pattern for thousands of little Robert Smith people dressed with a black coat and heavy make-up. As all the best protagonists of the avalanche next to punk, which was called “new wave”, The Cure is a successful mixture of authenticity and artfulness, of a passion which burns your bowels and of cosmetics taken to the extreme effects. Less sacred and caustic than Joy Division, less pompier and alluring than Bauhaus, less crafty than the cousin Siouxsie (whose Banshees the same Robert supported for a long time as the guitarist), The Cure was the DNA of the blues of the Mississippi delta, transplanted in the deep and lower middle-class English province, grown up by good French books but without the antibodies to endure the new years. At their best The Cure told the slow bleaching of the days and the life as it was a long fascinating darkening, mentioning Camus (The Stranger, inspiration of their first single Killing An Arab) and the oneiric images which seemed a Sigmund Freud’s compendium (A Forest : “Suddenly I stop/but I know it’s too late/ I’m lost in a forest/all alone”), except then shaking with loud nihilistic albums (their 1982-masterpiece, Pornography). All around them there was the post-punk UK, London which worked as a big magnet for all the unquiet souls: while The Cure was playing in the sacristy, Malcolm McLaren and Vivienne Westwood stood as godfather and godmother to the Sex Pistols in their creative clothes shop Sex, the first punks – who Siouxsie was among- who put together (It’s madness!) the uniforms of gay and rocker subcultures, peroxide hair and leather jackets, studs and hooked crosses. The Cure took the least part in this big party, standing aside as the philosophers ought to, only by chance lent to the pop world. Today we see them as some dinosaurs in a theme park, sometimes joking around Robert Smith’s paunch or around his make-up, which may be a only thing with his skin: but it’s obvious how much their great influence stands out nowadays. And the last summer Italian Cure concerts there were three fans generations, and the youngest people, the boys who knew the Boys Don’t Cry words by heart, didn’t seem dark survivors. (f.d.l.)
In the red caption under the article : A young Robert Smith impend over The Cure and he is farsighted already.
In the red caption up on the right: At their best The Cure told the slow bleaching of the days and the life as it was a long fascinating darkening.
Thanks so much FRANCY for TRANSLATING and submitting this article!!!