everything you do is irresistible
a review of the Cure's show at Blossom Music Center, June 11, 2023
(photo by Annie Zaleski of the Cure at Blossom Music Center, June 11, 2023)
Last night, I saw the Cure at Blossom Music Center, an outdoor amphitheater roughly 45 minutes outside of Cleveland. Weather reports leading up to the concert looked terrible, with chilly temperatures and torrential rain predicted for basically the entire show. Although it was completely appropriate for the Cure to be playing on a gloomy, rainy night, the conditions were far from ideal: After the Twilight Sad’s phenomenal opening set, the power in the venue flickered out as lightning and a loud thunderclap brought on a severe weather delay. Incredibly, the show only started 30 minutes late—a testament to the dedicated crew who worked efficiently and quickly to make sure the band was ready to go.
I’ve seen the Cure four times now, each time better than the last. Robert Smith appeared to be sick when I saw the band in Kansas City in 2008, so my first experience was somewhat underwhelming. However, my 2016 show in Chicago boasted a bananas setlist: The band opened with “Shake Dog Shake” and it just spiraled into awesomeness from there, with appearances by “The Top” (which hasn’t been played since!), b-side “The Exploding Boy” and rarities such as “Like Cockatoos.” In 2018, my husband and I traveled to London and saw the Cure’s show at Hyde Park, capping off a day where we also saw Goldfrapp, Slowdive, Editors, and Interpol. The setlist understandably skewed hit-heavy, which was certainly not a bad thing. But seeing the band with thousands of adoring fans, many of whom traveled very far distances for the show, was a total dream.
For me, last night was all about the story Robert Smith and the rest of the Cure wanted to tell us. Unlike previous tours, the setlist from night to night only varies a little bit, with the occasional rarity thrown in between static sequences of tunes. Unlike the recent Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band tour, however, this setlist has clearly been carefully chosen: The sequencing was impeccable and surprising, with unreleased music flowing in and out of familiar hits—the yearning “Pictures of You” and massive hit “Lovesong” were songs two and three of the night, sandwiched between new tunes—without a drop in energy or interest. The curation (sorry) also ensured long-time fans were covered, with “Kyoto Song” and then a one-two punch of Seventeen Seconds’ “At Night” into “Play for Today” bringing the early post-punk needling.
Striking this balance isn’t easy to do, and it’s also a testament to the interplay between the band members. The Cure have long been a fantastic live band, but their sheer musicianship and chemistry are on another level right now. At the start of “And Nothing Is Forever,” Smith even conducted the rest of the band as if he was guiding an orchestra—appropriate, since the aching tune deserves symphonic treatment. Perhaps even more important, Smith’s voice remains remarkable: otherworldly and singular, with little of the grit or cracks many of his peers need to work around. Although he occasionally starts a song on a lower note than on record, this gesture doesn’t fundamentally change the execution.
(photo by Annie Zaleski of the Cure at Blossom Music Center, June 11, 2023)
It was a pleasure to watch Reeves Gabrels and Simon Gallup spar musically in the background behind Smith, as if they were playfully goading each other into reaching new musical heights. Gabrels’ acumen at adding sonic texture shined especially on “A Night Like This,” during which he contributed a swirling, disorienting solo. Drummer Jason Cooper was a thunderous fire god on highlight “Burn,” his propulsive drums capturing the angst and desperation of the scorching tune. “Push” was another Cooper standout, where the camera flipped around and showed a drummer’s-eye view of the fan favorite.
Keyboardist Roger O’Donnell is the perfect player for the Cure, capable of adding sparkling synths and greyscale flourishes alike. And returning multi-instrumentalist Perry Bamonte was the ideal addition to augment the music on this tour, as he stepped in and added various parts and sounds when needed.
Gallup, who sported an Iron Maiden sleeveless shirt last night, is currently the longest-tenured member of the Cure besides Smith. His lithe, loose presence is crucial: His scabrous, gouging basslines provide the jet black-ink foundation on which the Cure thrives. Of particular note at Blossom Music Center was “A Forest” and “Shake Dog Shake.” The former started out ghostly and languid, with Gallup slowly and deliberately plucking out his parts, and ended with a marvelous sight: Gallup and Smith stood facing each other as they dueled on the ominous, skeletal conclusion. Smith’s back was even to the crowd; it felt like they were in a tiny club jamming out an ending rather than a large amphitheater. Gallup then added some scabrous, abrasive sounds to end the intimate moment, before the rest of the band exploded into the always-cathartic “Shake Dog Shake.” That was followed by yet another energy bomb, the monstrous psychedelic moment “From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea.”
(photo by Annie Zaleski of the Cure at Blossom Music Center, June 11, 2023)
The subtle, smart details throughout the night also added depth, between a stunning light show and vibrant video detailing. On this tour, the band is bookending the main set with two new songs, “Alone” and “Endsong,” with complementary (if contrasting) video backdrops. For the former, the footage starts with a close-up of the Earth and slowly backs away until the full planet is visible, as if someone was in a spaceship drifting further out into the galaxy.
The music itself is elegiac and wistful, with cloudy textures, the sonic embodiment of looking back on life and its inevitable endings: “We were always sure that we would never change/And it all stops/Wе were always sure that wе would stay the same/But it all stops.” It’s certainly not an upbeat way to start the set, but it did calibrate the night’s mood: It was an oddly comforting acknowledgment that life is fleeting, and we should embrace the present before things collapse.
At the start of “Endsong,” a sister to the orb at the set’s start (presumably the “blood red moon” mentioned in the lyrics) appeared on the video screen in a fiery state, as if it’s on the brink of apocalypse, which also fits with the bleak sentiments about feeling alienated and isolated: “And I'm outside in the dark/Wondering how I got so old.”
The finality is difficult to avoid, although perhaps that’s the point. As a songwriter, Smith has never shied away from delving into the darkest and most uncomfortable parts of the human psyche—the times when you’re overwhelmed by bleakness and depression, when the emotional desperation and black moods feel hopelessly oppressive. His willingness to face the abyss—and then acknowledge and discuss the abyss, in honest and articulate ways—make the Cure’s music vulnerable and genuine. It’s no wonder the band have legions of younger fans; Smith was discussing mental health with brute honesty long before other musicians.
But Smith balances these explorations (or maybe excavations) with songs about life’s more lighthearted and joyous moments—heading into the weekend being in love, finding someone that understands you within an unforgiving world, embracing the innocent glee of romance. (Not for nothing was he captured singing “Plainsong” to his wife of 34 years, Mary, at a recent Los Angeles show.) There’s an optimistic undercurrent snaking through many of the Cure’s songs that help balance out the darkness.
The first encore was a pivot of sorts from somber introspection to lighter moments, setting up a second encore brimming with lighter (for the Cure) fare. The five-song set began with new song “I Can Never Say Goodbye” (written about Smith’s brother, who died a few years ago), eased into the rueful “It Can Never Be the Same” (“Don't worry, I smile/I'll miss you, but it's not like you’re gone”) and moved through the desire-heavy “Want” and then “Plainsong” before concluding with the title track of 1989’s Disintegration. Built upon a foundation of Gallup’s grimy bass and nimble guitar interplay between Smith and Gabrels, the song possesses a decided vibe of buoyancy despite its resignation: “It’s easier for me to get closer to heaven/Than ever feel whole again.” By giving into the darkness of shame and self-recrimination, it clears the path for glimmers of light.
Before the second encore, Smith cheerfully told the crowd that it was late and he’d understand if they wanted to leave. Some people took him up on that—but the vast majority stuck it out and stayed in their seats until the show ended at around 11:30pm with an ecstatic run of “In Between Days,” “Just Like Heaven” and, of course, the perennial closer “Boys Don’t Cry.”
Even this encore featured some surprises. The recently unearthed live rarity “Six Different Ways,” before which Smith joked he kept learning the song and forgetting it, was a sweet goof that featured the frontman dancing adorably, to the delight of the crowd. “Close to Me” was another opportunity for some shimmying and shaking, also a delight. “Why Can't I Be You?” received just its second airing on this tour—and was better than it was the night before in Chicago—and “The Walk” was a massive electrostatic groove.
After the show ended, a drenched and tired crowd trudged to the parking lot. Plenty more were dragging on Monday at work after the late night. (I sure was!) But the sleep deprivation and sogginess was worth it. We all remain so lucky the Cure is continuing to tour and grace us with their luminous presence.