— Tom Hibbert (ie the one on the left)
It was 1996 and we were all searching for the next thing. (Scratch that: we were waiting; we didn't seek anyone out, we were just hoping they were going to fall into our laps) The watered-down supposed alternative music of American frat boys Hootie & The Blowfish, Spin Doctors and (shudder) Deep Blue Something had failed to inspire any of us and it was now growing increasingly irritating. Britpop had its big timers but also a pretty shallow talent pool that meant precisely nothing to North Americans (a year later Dodgy played at my university pub to a crowd of myself, three of my chums and a half-dozen swooning bespectacled girls and this was a group that enjoyed a Top 10 album and a handful of hit singles back in the UK). The drum and bass stuff was starting to happen but we were all so stuck in our reverence for the guitar to take it seriously so we were turning our noses up at the bad and the good.
Some musician friends of mine took stock of the bleak landscape and declared "the best groups in the world are R.E.M., U2 and The Cure". Now, there may have been a decent case to be made for this way back in '86 but this was ten years hence. R.E.M. had just released the kind-of live album New Adventures in Hi-Fi but this is also happened to be just when no one seemed to care about them anymore, U2 were increasingly seen as a brand rather than a band and what business did the bloody Cure have being so highly ranked to begin with? Those other two groups may have sort of mattered but who did The Cure matter to beyond Cure fanatics?
With all that in mind, I'd like to take this opportunity to apologise for underestimating them — at least a little. They're still not completely my cup of tea but I should now admit what a major talent Robert Smith has always been. Funny it should take something so lightweight but perhaps that's the point; I'd stand by my dismissiveness if all they ever managed to record was that bunch of heavy going gothic stuff others seem to care for.
With a feel not unlike The Associates' 1982 SOTF "Party Fears Two", "The Caterpillar" breezes along effortlessly. This is no doubt aided by the presence of percussionist Andy Anderson and Lol Tolhurst on piano, probably the two Cureists who contributed the most individually to the sound of an famously dictatorial group. Obviously Smith is the man who has made them and is The Cure but it's rather nice to hear a more collaborative dynamic going on. As Tom Hibbert says, things are kept simple with nice hooks and minimal lyrics. What we have, I suppose, is a woman in Smith's life who is of modest means and background but who will no doubt one day morph into a sophisticated, worldly butterfly destined for better things and a someone more befitting her new station. It is either a pessimistic account of the inevitability of being left behind or a game attempt at generously letting go (or a clever attempt to appear to be the latter when you're really just the former).
In mysearching waiting for that next thing (a year later and we were all convinced it was Radiohead and I suppose it was for a bit though it seems hard to believe now) I could have done worse than stumble upon "The Caterpillar". For while I awaited for the next big thing to emerge, I was also hoping to have another chance at love — once again, not in search of it but just biding my time until it presented itself to me. Smith's tender, mature reading may have helped me finally get over any lingering heartbreak while his more twisted side may have encouraged a more cavalier approach to attracting a special someone. And, anyway, if girls were throwing themselves at Smith — not to mention those half-dozen bespectacled girls at the members of Dodgy — there'd have to be at least one out there who'd opt for me. But I could wait.
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
Billy Joel: "The Longest Time"
Your first album and first concert ought to be embarrassing and on both fronts I am proud to be ashamed. A ticket was available and I joined my mum, sister and aunt to attend A Night with Billy Joel. I wasn't a fan but I didn't have anything against him but almost as soon as the show was done I realised I wasn't going to be boasting to friends about seeing our Billiam. Not a great concert but it was astonishing to discover that I knew every last song he performed when all I thought I was familiar with was "We Didn't Start the Fire" and other contemporary minor hits. He did this one which of course I didn't know I knew. A near-a capella masterpiece of vocal stylings from the doo-wop era, Joel managed to make it seem fresh back in '84 and it still holds up to this day. One of those songs that's impossible to dislike. But I should refrain from saying any more since I don't want anyone to know how much I like it.
It was 1996 and we were all searching for the next thing. (Scratch that: we were waiting; we didn't seek anyone out, we were just hoping they were going to fall into our laps) The watered-down supposed alternative music of American frat boys Hootie & The Blowfish, Spin Doctors and (shudder) Deep Blue Something had failed to inspire any of us and it was now growing increasingly irritating. Britpop had its big timers but also a pretty shallow talent pool that meant precisely nothing to North Americans (a year later Dodgy played at my university pub to a crowd of myself, three of my chums and a half-dozen swooning bespectacled girls and this was a group that enjoyed a Top 10 album and a handful of hit singles back in the UK). The drum and bass stuff was starting to happen but we were all so stuck in our reverence for the guitar to take it seriously so we were turning our noses up at the bad and the good.
Some musician friends of mine took stock of the bleak landscape and declared "the best groups in the world are R.E.M., U2 and The Cure". Now, there may have been a decent case to be made for this way back in '86 but this was ten years hence. R.E.M. had just released the kind-of live album New Adventures in Hi-Fi but this is also happened to be just when no one seemed to care about them anymore, U2 were increasingly seen as a brand rather than a band and what business did the bloody Cure have being so highly ranked to begin with? Those other two groups may have sort of mattered but who did The Cure matter to beyond Cure fanatics?
With all that in mind, I'd like to take this opportunity to apologise for underestimating them — at least a little. They're still not completely my cup of tea but I should now admit what a major talent Robert Smith has always been. Funny it should take something so lightweight but perhaps that's the point; I'd stand by my dismissiveness if all they ever managed to record was that bunch of heavy going gothic stuff others seem to care for.
With a feel not unlike The Associates' 1982 SOTF "Party Fears Two", "The Caterpillar" breezes along effortlessly. This is no doubt aided by the presence of percussionist Andy Anderson and Lol Tolhurst on piano, probably the two Cureists who contributed the most individually to the sound of an famously dictatorial group. Obviously Smith is the man who has made them and is The Cure but it's rather nice to hear a more collaborative dynamic going on. As Tom Hibbert says, things are kept simple with nice hooks and minimal lyrics. What we have, I suppose, is a woman in Smith's life who is of modest means and background but who will no doubt one day morph into a sophisticated, worldly butterfly destined for better things and a someone more befitting her new station. It is either a pessimistic account of the inevitability of being left behind or a game attempt at generously letting go (or a clever attempt to appear to be the latter when you're really just the former).
In my
~~~~~
Also Reviewed This Fortnight
Billy Joel: "The Longest Time"
Your first album and first concert ought to be embarrassing and on both fronts I am proud to be ashamed. A ticket was available and I joined my mum, sister and aunt to attend A Night with Billy Joel. I wasn't a fan but I didn't have anything against him but almost as soon as the show was done I realised I wasn't going to be boasting to friends about seeing our Billiam. Not a great concert but it was astonishing to discover that I knew every last song he performed when all I thought I was familiar with was "We Didn't Start the Fire" and other contemporary minor hits. He did this one which of course I didn't know I knew. A near-a capella masterpiece of vocal stylings from the doo-wop era, Joel managed to make it seem fresh back in '84 and it still holds up to this day. One of those songs that's impossible to dislike. But I should refrain from saying any more since I don't want anyone to know how much I like it.
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