THE CURE
Pornography
(deluxe edition)
It’s a sunny day here in Finland, and I’m inside listening to The Cure’s classic album, Pornography (1982) – see the contradiction here? If you don’t, let me have the pleasure of enlightening you, the fellow readers of Remember The Eighties, in this matter.
If I was to choose one word to describe the album, I would, without a doubt, go for the word "dark". The reason is simple, really... Pornography represents The Cure in their darkest moment (but it wouldn’t be The Cure if it was being stingy on melancholy, would it?).
Listening to the album for the first time, all you get out of it is the doom-y and gloomy atmosphere. There is nothing catchy on it; nothing that would make you listen to it extra carefully. But that’s only the first play. On the second play you start to actually feel the overwhelming darkness that is lurking in the generally monotonous sounds, and feel the mood, which could be similar to a slow-motion nightmare. Finally, after the third play, the album sweeps you into its utterly drowning darkness.
The whole album is so insufferably hopeless, depressing and, most of all, bleak, that there are no subtle ways to put it. Still, it is the darkness that makes it a great experience, especially for the fans of The Cure, who widely seem to consider it as their best album so far. And in the bleakness of it all lays the brilliance that I personally fail to see, but makes the fans jump into the seventh heaven: When Robert Smith sings in his trade-mark, whiney voice about such things as death (surprised?), loss, war, suffering and the general nausea and sickness of society, there’s not much room for happiness. The nearest thing to even a remotely "poppy" song would be ‘The Hanging Garden’, and it’s only because of the song’s tribal-drums. Mind you though, there’s absolutely no happy moments in it! Although the album’s starts nihilistically with the words "it doesn’t matter if we all die", even in midst of the dreary spirits, Pornography manages to sound surprisingly lackadaisical at times - but only at times.
Due to the total absence of "plinky-plonky" synth sounds on this album, it is interesting that their next album Japanese Whispers (technically a compilation of singles and their b-sides from 1982-1983) has such a happy-go-lucky atmosphere. …talk about two totally extreme ends, huh?
The sound in this Deluxe Edition is superb, but the second disc contains something only a Cure fan can truly appreciate: studio demos and live recordings. Admitting that the demos are surprisingly good quality and therefore very listenable, but the live recordings on the other hand… they’re good bootlegs, to put it bluntly. The second disc is a treat for any hardcore fan for sure.
I wouldn’t recommend listening to Pornography on a sunny day, by the way. Or, go ahead – just don’t play it in the presence of any shiny-happy people.
If I was to choose one word to describe the album, I would, without a doubt, go for the word "dark". The reason is simple, really... Pornography represents The Cure in their darkest moment (but it wouldn’t be The Cure if it was being stingy on melancholy, would it?).
Listening to the album for the first time, all you get out of it is the doom-y and gloomy atmosphere. There is nothing catchy on it; nothing that would make you listen to it extra carefully. But that’s only the first play. On the second play you start to actually feel the overwhelming darkness that is lurking in the generally monotonous sounds, and feel the mood, which could be similar to a slow-motion nightmare. Finally, after the third play, the album sweeps you into its utterly drowning darkness.
The whole album is so insufferably hopeless, depressing and, most of all, bleak, that there are no subtle ways to put it. Still, it is the darkness that makes it a great experience, especially for the fans of The Cure, who widely seem to consider it as their best album so far. And in the bleakness of it all lays the brilliance that I personally fail to see, but makes the fans jump into the seventh heaven: When Robert Smith sings in his trade-mark, whiney voice about such things as death (surprised?), loss, war, suffering and the general nausea and sickness of society, there’s not much room for happiness. The nearest thing to even a remotely "poppy" song would be ‘The Hanging Garden’, and it’s only because of the song’s tribal-drums. Mind you though, there’s absolutely no happy moments in it! Although the album’s starts nihilistically with the words "it doesn’t matter if we all die", even in midst of the dreary spirits, Pornography manages to sound surprisingly lackadaisical at times - but only at times.
Due to the total absence of "plinky-plonky" synth sounds on this album, it is interesting that their next album Japanese Whispers (technically a compilation of singles and their b-sides from 1982-1983) has such a happy-go-lucky atmosphere. …talk about two totally extreme ends, huh?
The sound in this Deluxe Edition is superb, but the second disc contains something only a Cure fan can truly appreciate: studio demos and live recordings. Admitting that the demos are surprisingly good quality and therefore very listenable, but the live recordings on the other hand… they’re good bootlegs, to put it bluntly. The second disc is a treat for any hardcore fan for sure.
I wouldn’t recommend listening to Pornography on a sunny day, by the way. Or, go ahead – just don’t play it in the presence of any shiny-happy people.
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