Hug patrol! It was all Cure headman, Robert Smith, could do to keep 
   singing amid the delicate hugs bestowed on him by eager fans who fought 
   their way onstage toward the end of the band's July 30th show at the Hult 
   Center. Smith-- a regular guy who buys his shrouds off the rack-- 
   resembled a character off a "Les Miserables" poster, only with a guitar. 
   His harlot make-up, coy posture and that famous melancholy were just too 
   much for the swooning fans, as Smith and band played two-and-a-half hours 
   of Cure classics, as well as songs off their latest "WMS".
      The Cure capped off a perfect summer day in Eugene. Smith's halting 
   voice powerfully communicated his lovelorniest messages, without the aid 
   of a single backing vocal. The Hult became a disco of the damned on 
   "Fascination Street", as the gauzy backdrop billowed in the smoke machine 
   breeze, the superb light show offered some fresh gestures, and that weird 
   Easter basket woven Hult interior for once seemed almost appropriate.
   "Let's move to the beat like we know that's it 's over." Indeed.
      The spare-sounding band, with Smith taking all the guitar solos 
   himself, revealed his song-writing talents, as they worked through a heap 
   of great material, going all the way back to the nearly-20-year-old 
   Camus-based "Killing an Arab".
      The Cure kicked ass in the best show this writer has seen at the Hult. 
   It was enough to make black lipsticked lips quiver, and you just wanted 
   to console pop existentialist Smith, who manages to keep his head just 
   above the lip of the well, though romantic crowd energy was not lost on 
   Smith, who called us a "fucking incredible" audience. Group hug!

WELL--it was absolutely fabulous, first off.  My friend and I had 20th 
row orchestra seats, so we could see fairly well.  There was a lot of fog 
in the auditorium when we went in; this led the people in the mezzanine 
and balcony to start screaming when the set crew walked on stage to set 
things up (apparently one figure in black in the smoke looks about like 
any other from up there).  However, you knew when the actual Cure was 
going to come on, because (take notes here, people) the house lights went 
off and "Want" began.  My first hazy glimpse of that famous tousle-haired 
silhouette was moving indeed--right there in the same room with me!  
Wow!  And it helped when they started doing the lights so we could see 
the group better. 

As you may have heard, the lights were very cool; the crowd loved the 
little fish designs especially, I think.  Though I think they missed an 
opportunity during "Friday I'm in Love"--at "I don't care if Monday's 
blue," the lights were pink.  Maybe blue would've been too cheesy...I 
don't know.  Incidentally, before singing that one, Robert said, "This 
isn't the right day, but...fuck it."

Overall Robert seemed in a very good mood that night; a couple giggles, 
acting out the lyrics to "Lullaby" (if you've never seen Robert pantomime 
a spider, let me tell you, it's high entertainment).  He looked a little 
sad during "Lovesong" and "Disintegration," but that's to be expected, I 
suppose.  I was also pleased to note that there was no hockey jersey 
tonight--he was wearing a long-sleeved loose dark blue shirt with little 
buttons up the front; I think I've seen him wear it in pictures before; 
and jeans and of course the big high-tops (but at least they were black, 
not white).  Simon certainly looked interesting in this thing which I 
thought was maybe a really long tank-top, but might actually have been a 
dress of some kind, with leggings underneath.  Perry and Roger looked 
nice and normal (jeans and black shirts), and poor Jason was kind of lost 
in the smoke back there...I just caught glimpses of blond hair.

It seemed like we had to scream forever to get them to do the first 
encore, but it was well worth it--the "pop" encore.  They did the "Why 
Can't I Be You" mixed with "Lovecats" mixed with that old song "Young at 
Heart," and "Close to Me" among others.  For those I mentioned there, 
Robert left the guitar behind, unhooked the mike, and went over to flirt 
with the crowd.  He nearly got pulled into the audience once, and at one 
point a girl with lavendar hair jumped up on stage and ran to hug him.  
She promptly got led back by security, but it started a trend:  over the 
next few songs, at least 7 more people made it up on stage and ran over 
to hug or just touch him.  He was always nice about it, smiling shyly and 
ducking his head, hands folded protectively over his chest with the mike 
between them.  

Then, during the second encore, a certain portion of the orchestra level 
decided to run down the aisle and get up close to the stage.  My friend 
and I dove into the storm and weasled our way to second row.  I'm small, 
so I could squeeze between people well, but I couldn't see over their 
heads until I happened to jump up on the seat back of one of the 
second-row seats, and had a lovely view, right in between Roger and 
Robert, maybe 20 feet away!  If that.  I caught Roger's eye a few times 
and gave him a big cheery smile; he smiled back, I like to think because 
he knew I was Molly from the chat site, but of course there's no way he 
could've known that.  We all beckoned to Robert to come closer, but he 
seemed a little scared of us by then.  He smiled and shook his head, and 
stayed safely out of reach.  However, he seemed quite pleased with the 
evening overall; at the end of the night, he told us, "Thank you"--I 
swear I heard the whole word "thank"--"You've been a fucking excellent 
audience!"

Incidentally, from the look of it, the place was sold out, or near sold 
out anyway, so that's good!