

Some of those fans, not to mention music critics, have only half-jokingly attributed the Cure's commercial and/or creative post- Disintegration decline to Smith's increased contentment as an older, wiser, more settled married man. True Cure diehards (no pun intended) would likely cite the title track, " Plainsong,” or " Prayers for Rain" as better representations of the Disintegration experience.

And interestingly, "Lovesong" wasn't even the album's best cut. But Disintegration didn't just mark the Cure's commercial peak many critics would argue that it was the band's greatest artistic achievement as well. This was not a shiny happy pop album.Īnd yet somehow, owed at least in part to "Lovesong's" unexpected success, Disintegration became the Cure's biggest release, going double-platinum and helping define "alternative music" long before Seattle's flannel-swathed revolution of the 1990s. Other tracks, unlike the perfectly precise 3:30 "Lovesong," clocked in at seven to nine minutes, and dealt with Smith's favorite obsessive hot topics, like death, drowning, aging, unraveling relationships, rain, and and killer arachnoids. (Tolhurst left the band midway through Disintegration's recording, and while Tolhurst blasted the album at the time, he has since changed his mind.) The album's first single, not "Lovesong" but the brooding " Fascination Street," was hardly a formulaic radio hit, featuring nearly two-and-half minutes of anticipation-building guitar noise before Smith's pained vocals even kicked in. The recording of Disintegration was plagued by Robert's preoccupation with his looming 30th birthday, by his discomfort with his increasing fame, by his regular LSD use, and by original member Lol Tolhurst's alcohol abuse. My reaction to it was to make Disintegration, which was at the time considered to be commercial suicide," Robert admitted to Yahoo Entertainment in the 2000 interview seen above. "After the Kiss Me album, we got our first real taste of big-time success in America. However, Disintegration as a whole wasn't a very lovey-dovey album at all it was actually a concerted effort to return to the more claustrophobically depressing, and presumably less mainstream, sound of the Cure's earlier material. And the song was the wedding gift that kept on giving, no doubt creating a nice nest egg for the Smiths with royalties from later hit cover versions by 311, American Idol winner Candice Glover, and especially Adele, who recorded it for 21, an album that sold 31 million copies worldwide. It was also the band's biggest British single, peaking at No. Robert's wedding present to Mary, sometimes known as "Love Song," hit No. This content is not available due to your privacy preferences.

After slugging it out with a revolving Cure lineup since 1976, Robert Smith - with his spidery hair and trademark smeared scrawl of crimson lipstick - had somehow become one of music's most unlikely and reluctant rock stars. But it was 1989's Disintegration - the culmination of all of Smith's stylistic experiments, simultaneously gorgeous and raw, melancholy and exuberant, grandiose and intimate - that transformed the Cure into stadium headliners. The Cure broke out of the post-punk underground in the mid-'80s with The Head on the Door and their double-disc follow-up, Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me. Thirty years ago this week, on May 2, 1989, the Cure released the magnum opus that Kyle from South Park once rightfully declared " the best album EVER! " While the Cure's epic eighth studio effort, Disintegration, was among the band's gloomiest and doomiest (frontman Robert Smith always considered it an unofficial companion to 1982's intensely, brutally dark Pornography), it ironically yielded the band's sweetest - and most commercially successful - single, "Lovesong."
