Wild Mood Swings is the name of the Cure's current CD and obviously the
theme of the band's concert at the Miami Arena Friday night. 

Singer Robert Smith-in a baggy Panthers jersey and trademark ratty hair-led
his British bandmates through '80s ``mope rock'' dirges and newer optimistic
ditties on a set that seemed plucked out of a Ray Bradbury novel.
An eerie broken roller coaster loomed center stage,and large paper lanterns
sporadically descended from the ceiling amid atmospheric lighting that 
varied from foreboding reds to inviting sea greens.

As a live act,the Cure seems an iffy proposition.The Cure's somber music
usually is best consumed privately.As a communal experience in a vast arena,
the band has to make adjustments to work.Much credit,then,to bassist Simon
Gallup and keyboardist Roger O'Donnell for working punchy,tightly coiled
beats into the music,freeing it from the dense mix found on record.

Newly enlivened songs Why Can't I Be You?,Fascination Street and Just Like
Heaven throve under Smith's economical guitar riffs.As musicians,this
version of the Cure is the most impressive Smith has assembled.

Yet,even the best Cure songs tend to sound too similar when grouped over the
course of a 2 1/2-hour show,and none build to a climax.Repeat the same few
chords.Abruptly cease.Next.Also,Smith's one-dimensional voice and the band's
impersonal nature can prove tedious.

Still in all,the Cure's mixed moods and concise musicianship showcased an
act bold enough to seek change in a business that doesn't always smile on 
tampering with proven formulas.In that respect,you have to give the Cure its
due.

Dry ice is a great metaphor where the Cure is concerned.The willowy smoke
that seeped onstage Friday at Miami Arena bore some resemblance to the big,
gauzy sound plied by Cure founder Robert Smith and his bandmates.

Apart from Smith's kicky hit singles,the Cure's specialty is an aural
washdown that,properly  applied,could put a full hall under for hours.Except
that Smith - Britian's pasty,goth-lite poet of despair - wouldn't stand for
the lack of adoration.

His solution,evident on nearly every number in a mammoth 32-song,2 1/2-hour
set,was to give the Cure's musical gouache some muscle underneath.This meant
cranking the rhythm section up and hoping that new drummer Jason Cooper and
longtime bassist Simon Gallup would justify their prominence in the mix.

They did.The  sharp,quick,plexus-thumping beats this newly matched pair
generated kept Cure songs like Want and Club America,from the new album
Wild Mood Swings,as well as standards like High and Fascination Street,from
wandering off like so much dry-ice fog.It also let Smith concentrate on
being,well,Smith.

A sight in his red Florida Panthers hockey jersey and jumble of black hair,
Smith didn't have to work hard to engage a house full of admirers,many of
whom arrived in similar Night-Of-The-Living-Poodles getup:tossed hair,
eyeliner,black lipstick and clothing to match.

Vocally,Smith was true to his stuffy-nosed whine.He sang without a spotlight
("Robert doesn't like spotlights in his face," a member of the arena's
technical crew explained) and  seemed  quite  cheery - smiling,accepting
bouquets and touching extended hands during the band's eight-song,half-hour
encore.

The group showed confidence in the new album,playing more than half of it.
Cure fans also got lots of the favorites from a career stretching back to
the beginnings of British punk:the winsome Lovesong,Boys Don't Cry (closed
out  with  a  verse  of  the Ramones Beat on the Brat),the Audrey
Hepburn-ish Friday I'm In Love,Why Can't I Be You? and an ode to insecurity,
Let's Go To Bed.

With highlights like these,the Cure is bound to find a way through the fog.