MAYHEM-INDUCING marketing strategies number 361; buy two Cure albums at A Certain Big Record Store and get this unavailable-anywhere-else, live-at-Wembley collection absolutely free.

A curiously understated epitaph for the gloomy chaps' quite magnificent shows of 1989, and the strangeness doesn't end there; instead of picking an eclectic selection of past glories from the mammoth, history-encompassing excursions, the powers that be have resurrected the bulk of 'Disintegration' - mindwarps 'n' all.

A frustrating policy for the scatty pop toon lovers, but equally one which cannily refuses to undermine the atmospheric attributes of said LP.

So 'Entreat' is a nigh-on impeccable reproduction of the vinyl nirvana, a droopy, dreamy saunter through The Cure's lushly tortured terrain. With Smith's mob never being the types to indulge in a spot of self-mutilation or savage destruction on the boards, Prayers For Rain, Pictures of You et al pass by unscathed and scowling, retaining their deft touches and smooth ruffles.

Aside from the distant rapturous crowd response, the only intrusion into this seductive flow is the occasional lacksadaisical (sic) introduction from Smith - not for him the "HOW'RE YA DOOIN' LUNNUN!!!???" exhortations which seem to infest so many pseudo stars once they break out of fortress Falcon. He's content to lull the listener into a false sense of (in)security with immense meanderings and an innate sense of bittersweet surrender, more overthrown than overblown. A more funereal live collection would be hard to find.

Untitled is the anguished au revoir, a dangerously drawn-out send off which is virtually unconscious come the final, baleful bar. The perversity continues - Reading's loss is Glastonbury's massive gain (8).

THE HOLLOWNESS of Bob Smith's voice is an admirable thing. He can take that letter 'O" to places it never meant to go. Even his between song links - wordy displays like "This is called Closedown" - would have got him star billing in the Addams Family in different times.

And that's one of the few new things to say about Entreat, the groovy new live LP from The Cure which used to be a limited edition CD of their Disintegration-era set and is now a very available album of the same.

So you punters what care and what went to Wembley Arena will marvel at the ever-unwinding precision of the early New Orderish synths and echoing guitars, the slow neatness of what is not obviously a live record - I mean, they could have taped the muted and appropriately hollow applause any old time. The very ambience of Entreat, the very tidiness of it all makes one almost yearn for the vile clatter that was Concert.

Like, I think The Cure are pretty irritating but this is a very soothing record, a sort of unwashed Talk Talk thing. After a few minutes one begins to feel that one is in a flotation tank, albeit one where you can dip your head in the water and go "wwoooooommm!!!" at any fish that may be lost there.

If you don't think The Cure are pretty irritating, you're sure to groove to Entreat, which is The Cure at their smoovest. And if you ain't, you'll enjoy the sensation of a warm bath of niceness. (6)

Back in July 1989 The Cure played a short series of concerts at London's Wembley Arena, to coincide with the release of Disintegration, their last album. These three hour-plus affairs were regarded by many fans as the definitive Cure shows, so when the HMV chain of record stores released a limited edition cassette and CD of extracts from the shows, they were snapped up almost immediately.

There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth among those who missed out, and it wasn't long before market forces took their toll, with copies selling for over 20 pounds at record fairs around the country. Presumably, it was this fact, coupled with the bootlegs and counterfeits which have since appeared, that prompted Fiction to reissue the set in an unlimited, freely-available edition.

The seven (?) tracks on Entreat are of pristine sound quality. All of them originally appeared on Disintegration, one of The Cure's finest studio LPs. The live versions of Fascination Street and Lullaby (??) take on a new significance here, with Smith in particular delivering his guitar playing and vocals with admirable aplomb.

A far more satisfactory document than their first live LP Concert, Entreat captures a band in its element. They might call him Fat Bob but there's nothing flabby or complacent about this performance. (9)

This short live album demands that you be a committed Cure fan, and that you believe their passionate album Disintegration is worth another recording.

Should this be so, Entreat is a worthy purchase. The production values alone in this 1989 Wembley performance make it a remarkable collection. The sound is amazingly rich and clean, with vocals pushed to the front of the mix without losing crowd atmospherics.

Robert Smith moans through a neat wedge of Disintegration tracks such as Pictures of You, Closedown and Prayers for Rain with such clarity it is hard to believe he is singing live.

What is disappointing about this collection, however, is the group's reluctance to deviate from the arrangements on the studio album. I would wager that Pictures of You is note-for-note identical to its original, so why buy Entreat? Especially when [Australians] still cannot get to see the Cure live.