The Cure for Time Travel
On The Cure's best album 'Disintegration,' listening to multiple timelines at once, and discovering a natural wine bar + record store on an island
One of the best things about collecting records is that it allows listeners to time travel. On every record pressed, there are multiple timelines imprinted in its grooves. If time is a subjective experience based on individual perception, then vinyl records are basically Deloreans with flux capacitors that can take people back to specific moments in the lives of artists, the supporting crew, and the collective audiences. A vinyl record is a physical marker for the passage of time, starting from ideation and conception down to recording, production, purchase, and play.
Think about it - on every record, you are hearing music that was created during a specific moment in an artist’s life. There’s the time the record is released, and how it fits within the contextual narrative of that year, that decade, or more. Then, there’s the time that you the individual first hear a single on the radio or streaming service, or maybe the time that you purchased the vinyl record itself. These multiple timelines are happening all at once as you spin a record.
When I listen to a record, I personally recall past moments while also experiencing the music in the present moment. I also obsessively notate where and when I got the record because the acquisition is just as significant as putting it on the turntable for the first time. Really, this is where the musical journey starts. Most recently, one particular vinyl record has sent me back to the year 1989, and the entire 80s new wave / goth genre for that matter - The Cure’s Disintegration. Given that we are a few days from Halloween, it feels like an appropriate time to dive into this goth-pop masterpiece.
Released in May 1989 on Fiction Records, Disintegration, The Cure’s eighth studio album, was recorded during a period of emotional turmoil. Their previous double album Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me and supporting world tour had done a number on lead singer Robert Smith and his band of lost boys, who had an extreme distaste for fame and a life in the spotlight. While struggling with depression, Smith relapsed and started taking hallucinogenic drugs again. Meanwhile, friction was percolating within the band as founding member Lol Tolhurst was increasingly struggling with alcoholism. In simple terms, all this “disintegration” amongst the band’s relationships and mental states heavily influenced the production of the album.
However, were it not for these hardships, The Cure would not have what created what is considered to be their greatest album ever, and one of the best, dare I say, ever. Audiences and critics agreed as Disintegration became The Cure’s highest selling album to date while the single “Lovesong” peaked at Number 2 on the Top 100. Eventually, Rolling Stone put Disintegration at #116 on the Top 500 Albums of All-Time list. The album is the culmination of the band’s entire career, a quintessential Cure album that imbues all the elements of the band’s output: heavy bass, flangy guitar, Smith’s vocal resignation as he laments over lost loved ones; despair, depression; anxiety; and existentialism; and a glimmering shower of synthesizer keyboards. The album is dark and heavy, but it is also gorgeous and beautiful, delivering a masterclass in tonal songwriting and craftsmanship.
Disintegration was inspired by the realization that Smith was about to turn thirty, and that depressed the hell out of him. Combined with all the drugs and alcohol that the band had consumed throughout their career, you could imagine the sorry state he was in. In the larger pantheon of rock, this era was also the time that alternative rock was taking shape with albums like Pixies’ Doolittle, Jane’s Addiction’s Nothing’s Shocking, and Nirvana’s Bleach, which would eventually lead to the grunge and a total rejection of the shiny 80s pop-new wave that had dominated the airwaves. Coming out in 1989, Disintegration marks a transitional period for The Cure and the state of music at large.
The transition starts with the incredibly gorgeous album opener “Plain Song.” The stage is set for a dark and stormy night as wind chimes begin to sound off. The song deceptively sets a peaceful mood before an aural beam of synth breaks through the fog and envelopes you whole. In that moment, you can experience synesthesia and frisson at the same time: this song is what I imagine the album cover sounds like. Those synth keyboards are provided by Roger O’Donnell of the Psychedelic Furs. O’Donnell eventually replaced Lol Tolhurst, who was fired after the album was mixed. It’s these same keyboards that lead into one of the band’s most popular songs “Pictures of You.” Smith would claim in some interviews that the song was inspired by him regrettably burning all his personal photos to start anew. I tend to believe him because the lyrics are so visceral that you can imagine someone looking at pictures of a loved one and just feeling loss and longing. Disintegration adds more imagery with its dark twist on the children’s lullaby in “Lullaby.” If you want to set the mood on Halloween, turn off all the lights, light one candle, and play this song LOUD. Actually, play this whole album loud. The record sleeve itself demands it.
Disintegration is a remarkably complex and complicated album that feels cohesive in its sound and vision. From the juxtaposition of pairing “Love Song” and “Lullaby” back to back, the former being a sincere love song juxtaposed with the latter’s sinister and creepy undertones veiled under the guise of a simple beat. Side B features the longest song on the album “The Same Deep Water As You” which creates a trance-like state with its relentless sludge before the opening sound of shattering glass on “Disintegration” quite literally breaks you out of that dream state. “Disintegration” is appropriately the album’s pinnacle climax, an 8-minute pounding track that beats themes of depression, love, disgust, and disassociation. Smith sings about finding beauty in the decay, which one could argue is the album’s thesis.
Notably, any vinyl copy of Disintegration from 1989 until about 2010, including my Spanish pressing, does not feature two songs: “Last Dance,” which continues the low bass vibe of the album (and is NOT a cover of the Donna Summer hit), and “Homesick,” the melodic and melancholic piano-driven ballad. After the album’s 2010 remastering, subsequent vinyl reissues feature both songs, which to me, detrimentally impacts the album’s perfect track list. “Last Dance” doesn’t really add anything new to an already established mood while “Homesick,” despite being a great song on its own, disrupts the one-two punch of the album’s last two songs “Disintegration” and “Untitled.”
I would be remiss to not spend time on “Lovesong” - the song that got me into The Cure in the first place. Sadly, though, it wasn’t their version that I heard first but the 311 cover that dominated KROQ 106.7 in the late 90s. (Side note: this video was shot at the famous tiki bar Don the Beachcomber, and while that has nothing to do with The Cure, it makes me kinda love this version more.) However, we can all agree that the original version by The Cure is infinitely better, even if the 311 cover is literally a note-for-note carbon copy. The original version has what the 311 version lacks - pure intention. Robert Smith wrote the song for his wife and partner of many years Mary Poole as a wedding present. It’s the first song, he claims, that he wrote with earnestness. It’s sincere, direct, and simple - a true and everlasting testament to how much he cared for her. This is one of the most beautiful love songs ever written, and its placement on an album full of misery and dark thoughts shows how beauty and love can exist in a world of sadness, which is appropriate for today’s times.
Because I fell in love with The Cure through “Lovesong,” it felt right that I would find this record during a period of my life in which love was the dominant theme. My wife and I got married last year, and in early October 2022, we spent our honeymoon in Barcelona and the island of Mallorca. Spanish culture and cuisine has been a consistent topic of conversation throughout the years, and we were thrilled to be able to finally make our pilgrimage to tapas, Gaudí, and cava. It was an incredible trip.
Every time I travel, I make it a point to seek out a record store in that destination. Honestly, it’s a great lens with which to explore a city. I visited some really incredible shops like Discos Paradiso and Barcelona City Records, but the most memorable one wasn’t on my list. It was a discovery made in passing in Mallorca. Part Miami-like port, part historic moment in time, the island of Mallorca, and particularly the city of Palma, is at once evocative of a European past and a brimming contemporary culture filled with alleys to wander for days. It was during one of these walks that we saw a sign for La Viniloteca, a natural wine bar that doubled as a record shop. After we had a great glass of wine and a small plate of cheese and crackers at sunset, I found my 1989 OG Spanish Pressing of The Cure’s Disintegration, thus sparking an entire year of deep-diving into the band, uncovering 80s goth/new wave music, attending Cruel Summer Fest with my sister where we saw Iggy Pop, Siouxsie, Echo & the Bunnymen, and ultimately, witnessing The Cure live at the Hollywood Bowl. While the album represents a pretty depressing time in the history of The Cure, for me, it’s a physical marker of one of the best periods of my life. These multiple timelines exist simultaneously, even if they are stark opposites. Both are true.
After the album’s release, Smith repeatedly stated that this was the last Cure album and tour. Ironically, the album that Smith intentionally made sound depressing to fight their fame and growth turned them into exactly what he didn’t want to become: a stadium rock band that is still touring nearly 30 years later. However, in producing an album that spoke to the emotional truth with no compromise, they ended up creating music that stands the test of time.
The Cure’s Disintegration is in fact, timeless.
Recommendations inspired by The Cure’s Disintegration
Bandsplain: The Cure Part 1 & Part 2 (Podcast)
I’ve written about Bandsplain before, but these two episodes on The Cure were the ones that introduced me to Yasi Salek and her extensive google docs. Salek’s deep dive into the entire history and discography of the band is not only extremely thorough in how far it goes into Cure mythology, but it is also insanely entertaining. Salek isn’t the stereotypical “white male rock critics” that tries to bring an exclusionary intellect to music journalism - she brings her own vibe, humor, opinion, and journalistic integrity that welcomes everyone to join the party and not take itself so seriously. Hanif Abdurraquib joins her for the 6-hour journey into the depths of madness and Lol-trolling, and it’s honestly just a delight. Give it a try, babe, it’s real good.
La Viniloteca (Natural Wine Shop & Record Store)
Remember that aforementioned natural wine shop / record store in Mallorca where I found my copy of Disintegration? La Viniloteca is the spot. I’m not sure when you’ll be in Mallorca next time, but if you ever are, come for the records, stay for the natural wine, and fall in love with the little plate of tapas they bring out while the sun sets in the alleyways of Palma. It’s magic.
American Gothic: Scenes from the Dark Side of Miami (Article)
Written by LA Times Reporter and former Rolling Stone Latin Music journalist Suzy Esposito, this brief essay demonstrates the unique nexus point of a Latina goth surviving in the culture clash haven that is Miami, Florida.
Geraldine.Hifi (Instagram Creator)
In a different life, Geraldine lived thru the 60s - 80s decasdes as a Band-Aid like Penny Lane from Almost Famous, but for bands like Duran Duran, The Smiths, and Led Zeppelin. The San Diego-native not only features incredible record collection but also a wide array of vintage A/V equipment from various decades.
I created this playlist as I prepped for the Cruel World festival this past summer, but let’s keep this goth/new wave mood going for Halloween. Black clothing in 100 degree weather is the vibe.
That’s it for the fifth volume of First Pressing. Thanks for sticking around, and hope to see you at the next issue.
Until then, happy spinning :)
Kadrian
P.S. What’s a record that marks a specific period of time for you? Sound off in the comments!