THE CURE | THE HEAD ON THE DOOR
It was 1985 when The Cure released their sixth studio album and emerged with a new sound from their previous chapter of minimalism. A near-breakup led frontman Robert Smith to experiment with his own ideas and side projects resulting in a more whimsical characteristic that would bubble up to the surface for “The Head On the Door”.
The album was recorded with a newfound excitement and the band meshed well together with a renewed flow of creativity. Smith recounts as the sessions were infused with a child-like joy as they played games and drank themselves into fits of ecstasy. As a result the songs sound like a spring blossom of new possibility and Smith’s lingering dream of making a “skewed pop record” was finally coming true.
“In Between Days” begins the era of the band’s new story and starts the album off with a vibrant and bright ray of sunlight, crisp and gleeful. Ironically, and in complete contrast the lyrics reflect on on a more morose tone, lamenting into themes of aging and death; “Yesterday I got so old, I felt like I could die, yesterday I got so old, it made me want to cry.” This is what The Cure did so well with their art; they gave fans a chance to sway and flail along to personal sadness, loneliness, and self-questioning while still remaining content enough about it to live another day…and maybe, just maybe have a good time dwelling.
The line “A smile to hide the fear away” hints to us that Smith still lives in a mournful world but is perfectly comfortable playing in its sandbox. “Kyoto Song” feels like a disjointed dream, part sensual and part strange, while “The Blood” falls under the influence of Smith’s love of cheap Portuguese red wine, “I am paralyzed by the blood of Christ” he sings likely intoxicated. It’s easy to daydream about him swigging from the bottle in between takes, preparing to lead a million goth kids to their splendour.
“Six Different Ways” is a simplistic piano-trodding mid tempo avenue into the album’s slightly darker second half. Smith’s voice is honest and upfront in the mix. You can almost smell the hairspray and clove cigarettes. “Push” is the radio single that never was, a slice of pure Cure perfection it creates a welcome pop of colour despite the cryptic lyrics “Oh! smear this man across the walls / Like strawberries and cream / It’s the only way to be.”
And then there’s “Close To Me”, the epitome of pop perfection, irresistible to any listener. To say it’s one of a kind is an understatement. The dry hand claps and simple French synth line hid behind no shroud of reverb or wash, exposing the toy-like insides of The Cure’s mechanics, it remains a dance floor staple not just for the band’s devoted legion of followers, but for casual 80’s pop fans as well.
“A Night Like This” crashes the gathering like a moody friend who’s being obvious they’re ready to leave the party. The distorted baseline in “Screw” pushes a tweak of unease towards the end of the album, while the final track “Sinking” beautifully glows in opulent string synthesizers and piano. The mood of this final piece feels like a funeral to the whole album, trading in the playful vibrant colourful crayons for dark and thick oil paints. It’s all a foretelling of what was to come in the band’s future.
