Oct. 24, 1997

It's not the end of The Cure, but it's close

It's just a great bunch of songs. It doesn't mark the end for The Cure.

But it's close.

"Galore," a new singles collection from the legendary gloom-pop band, picks up where 1986's "Standing on the
Beach," a summary of early favorites, left off. Covering the "hits" (with a group like The Cure, which rarely
cracks the Top 40, the term must be used liberally) from 1987's "Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me" on through last
year's "Wild Mood Swings," the disc is merely a way for die-hards to reminisce and new fans to catch up -- or
test the waters on some material that might prove too challenging if taken in proper album-length doses.

It's not a greatest-hits package, then. Don't call it that.

"I ultimately want to do something like that," says band leader Robert Smith, whose name has become
synonymous with The Cure. "The last thing that ever comes out under The Cure's name will be a greatest hits,
but it will be my choice of songs, it will have nothing to do with whatever the commercial hits were. That's not my
concern.

"It will be more about the songs that for me sum up what being in The Cure has been about in its various states.
And I don't particularly want someone at a record company to tell me what the best Cure songs are when it comes
time to do it."

Interestingly -- and unfortunately, as Cure nuts will see it -- that final package comes with an arrival date. Smith
has long said that he doesn't wish The Cure to continue past his 40th birthday in 1999.

"For the group, really, that should be it," he said by phone from his home in London. "I want to get into film
music and other things that interest me. I decided in 1983 that walking into the millennium I should be doing
something new."

Does he still feel that way now?

"Yeah, I don't want to drag it out any longer than that. For me, The Cure means something special, it means ...
well, it means something anyway. I'd like to leave it at that."

Next year, then, could bring the final Cure album, which Smith says is being recorded. (Also due next year is a
separate B-sides collection, spanning the last decade of release, as a companion piece to "Galore.")

"Well, it definitely will be the last album we're doing for our record company around the world, so it would
certainly be easy to stop there. But then we can do the comeback tour in 2002," he joked. "At least there's
enough pressure for us not to go through with this."

Bottom line, enjoy The Cure while it's still here. Looking back over the radio staples of the last decade might
not appeal to some -- though hearing "Lovesong," "Just Like Heaven" and "Friday I'm in Love" again isn't
exactly torture. But included in the set is a new gem, "Wrong Number," already in heavy airplay on
KROQ/106.7 FM (though not slated for release as a single) and praised by some as the best Cure track in
years.

Curiously, it's also the least emblematic Cure song since "Hot Hot Hot!!!" showed us the sullen Brits had a
funky side. Not only does the song not feature most of the band's other members (in direct opposition to
Smith's unfailing pride in The Cure as a fully formed creative unit) but it features a guest spot -- a Cure first --
from guitarist Reeves Gabrels, known for his work recently with David Bowie.

What's more, its clackety electronic rhythms have little in common with the band's approach recently. The only
thing like it in its catalog, really, is its warped cover of "Purple Haze" from a Jimi Hendrix tribute this decade.
Smith, however, can't quite figure if it's pointing the way for The Cure's sound or not.

"About a month ago I thought it had nothing to do with anything," he says, "but since then I've really started
to get into its mood, and I now see some of the other songs I'm working on picking up that feeling. There's so
much more immediacy in the band right now, in what we're working on, that what we're doing almost has a Neil
Young sound to it. There's even a bit of Hammond organ in spots and lengthier guitar solos -- at least for us.

"It's all very different, but then I'm also interested in using loops as well, apart from my voice and any guitar.
So it's not all in one style."

But Smith says not everyone in the band instantly took to the idea of releasing a Cure song that wasn't really,
well, a Cure song.

"Some of them were really taken aback by the idea, in that it's always been just us, or whoever is in the group
at the time," he says. "On the other hand, some of them were perfectly thrilled to not do any work and still call
it The Cure."

(The singer adds that, though a stitched-together in-studio band version will be released in Europe, the group
has never played "Wrong Number" live and is only now rehearsing it. Its world premiere will come Tuesday
when The Cure plays the American Legion Hall. "Hopefully we don't murder it," he quips.)

No one should read too much into the success of the song, though, Smith says. Its lack of full participation is
not an early hint at the end.

"It's just that there always seems to be this unspoken thing in the band that for better or for worse, it's just us.
It started out as an us-against-the-world attitude, but it really just came down to a mindset that we're focused on
what The Cure is about. When you're not, that's when you're not in the band anymore, really. That's when people
have left.

"It's something based on friendship and commonality and a certain way of looking at the world, and I've been
really loathe to bring anyone else in before because that balance with The Cure has always worked."

Indeed, what most believe is the group's crowning achievement, 1989's "Disintegration," came out during this
fruitful period. Without sounding too boastful, Smith believes it is his shining hour.

"`Disintegration' will probably always be my favorite Cure album, because of the way it's made and especially
what it means to me. I think there's only a couple of times ever in an artist's career where you reach a point
where you think, `That's perfect. I couldn't do that any better.' `Disintegration' is one of those albums."

So dear to his heart is that work that he's returning to the high-pressure approach of its production schedule for
the band's new effort. Whereas The Cure spent close to a year on "Wild Mood Swings," it hurried through
"Disintegration" in under two months.

And it's easy to figure which one will last a good 25 years.

Consequently, The Cure is working at hyper-speed, almost in competition with "Disintegration's" pace.
"We've booked five days in the studio coming up, and we intend to come out with five songs when it's over. It's
more conducive to where we're at right now, and it should produce something punchier."

And, perhaps, something nearing closure. After all, Smith knows that for some people -- the sort that still have
teased jet-black hair and smeared lipstick and heavy eyeshadow -- shutting down The Cure is a form of saying
grow up and get a life.

"That's true, and it's what leads to a certain pressure from people that I get firsthand," Smith said. "We've
been there for a lot of people all throughout their lives, they've grown up with us, and if we stop, then it's like
saying it's time to face the outside world."

Still, weepy complaints aren't likely to sway his outlook. "At the moment, I'm here and really into it, but inside
I know that I want to do so many other things. The name The Cure for me has so many positive connotations
that I really don't want to spoil it. It will be the right time to move on."