Friday October 31 3:59 PM EST

FEATURE: The Cure Takes Stocks Of 'Galore'ious Past

By Gary Graff

DETROIT (Reuters) - Sitting in the garden of his home in Sussex, south of London, Robert Smith of the Cure
considers his life a success.

"I have a home," he notes of the bucolic, green surroundings. "I don't need to be famous. I enjoy myself in a lot
of other ways."

Among those is spending time with his 21 nephews and nieces, aged 1 to 21 -- "from knowing nothing to thinking
they know everything," as Smith puts it in a recent telephone interview.

"I really enjoy being their kind of slightly deranged uncle," Smith, who's married but has no children of his own,
says with obvious glee. "I'm experiencing things I'd probably be missing out on ... taking them to the pictures or
the theater or just going for walks.

"In some ways, it's very banal. It's what everyone else does, really, but something I haven't done before now
because I've been doing other things."

Chief among those is fronting a massively successful pop band whose songs are made instantly recognizable by
Smith's keen vocal delivery.

The Cure's accomplishments -- including five consecutive million-selling albums between 1986 and 1992 -- is the
celebrated subject of the new album and video collection "Galore -- The Singles 1987-1997," which salutes the
group's rise from cult favorite to mass-market sensation.

"Galore" treats just one side of the Cure, however -- the upbeat, sprightly aspect that's high on melody and
singalong potential. In these songs, Smith sings about romantic encounters that are "Just Like Heaven" and
exhorts the Cure's listeners "let's get happy!"

It's a counterpoint to the other face of the Cure, a dark, gloomy and neo-gothic approach that's prone to long,
angst-ridden songs and a melancholy ambience that's earned the British band a reputation as downcast and
somber.

Cure fans embrace both aspects of the band, but Smith acknowledges that the material on "Galore" fills a
certain purpose for his group.

"We've used (the singles), along with the videos, to draw in people who might otherwise feel that the Cure is too
difficult on some levels," explains Smith, 38, who formed the band in 1977 and has embodied its dark image with
and Edward Scissorhands-like appearance that featured teased hair and heavy eye makeup.

"They have portrayed a kind of light side of the band ... I always wanted the group to reflect how I felt about
things, and occasionally I like a good burst of foolishness.

"But I think we've got a kind of unfair reputation ... of being kind of difficult and heavy. I think what we do is very
accessible, generally. I think that most of the music that we've done has been based around melody, so therefore
it isn't that difficult to get into."

Besides bringing the band its greatest commercial successes, Smith feels that the 10 years showcased on
"Galore" were an artistic high point. He considers three of the albums made during that period -- "Disintegration"
in 1989, "Wish" in 1992 and "Wild Mood Swings" in 1996 -- to be the Cure's best.

And while "Disintegration" is a heavy, thematic work prompted by Smith's turning 30, the other two are
markedly lighter.

"After Disintegration,' I wanted the group to be more friendly," he says. "I just wanted it to be easier. I wanted
to enjoy the process much more rather than for it to be so abrasive and so much of a trial. The albums that have
grown out of that, 'Wish' and 'Wild Mood Swings,' have been infinitely more fun to to make but possibly lacked
some of the emotional weight.

"But if it's not there, I can't just create it. I've never been a songwriter who experiences things purely so I can
write about them. I think that's absurd."

"Wild Mood Swings," in fact, was something of a disappointment for the Cure, failing to sell a million copies in
the United States and not launching the same number of hits that jumped off previous albums.

Smith is nonchalant, however. He chalks it up to taking four years between albums and to shifting public tastes
that he doesn't feel responsible for controlling.

"I do think people in America think we're a bit weird, to be honest," he says. "Although we've done pretty well,
we've never been accepted as part of the mainstream. The mainstream changed over the years ... and
accommodates us much easier now. And I think it's changed for the better in a lot of ways.

"But there's still something about us which people feel slightly uncomfortable with. Which I like, really, though
I don't necessarily encourage it."

The Cure plans to give "Galore" a heavy promotional push through the end of the year, including media blitzes
of Los Angeles and New York, and a return in late November to play a batch of radio station-sponsored holiday
concerts.

But Smith is anxious to continue working on the Cure's next album. The lone new song on "Galore," "Wrong
Number," was plucked from those sessions, and Smith says the song -- which was recorded not by the band but
by Smith with guest guitarist Reeves Gabrels from David Bowie's band -- is indicative of where he's heading
with his new music.

"It was very kind of rock about two or three months ago, and it's taken quite a change in direction over the last
two months and become very kind of ethereal," he says. "It's very fluid. It doesn't have verse-chorus as much.
It's very atmospheric and quite cerebral, just trying to use different combinations of sounds and loops and those
kinds of things."

Smith says the Cure is still a band, and that the other musicians will be part of the recording process in due
course. But with "Galore" recapping the group's last 10 years, Smith is intent on taking time to find a fresh
direction for the band's next era.

"I don't want to play music that I've already heard," he says. "That's totally pointless. Ninety percent of what
I write I discard because I think, 'All right, I've nicked that from somewhere.' It's only the stuff that I think,
'OK, that's different' -- that's the stuff I keep."

Reuters/Variety