One of the most remarkable acts of all time, the Cure can justifiably be described as legends and yet carry themselves with such humility, it’s easy to forget they’re superstars. Utterly unaffected, despite a career spanning forty years, The Cure’s continued relevance lies in the fact that they have evolved and grown alongside their audience, happy to play the older material, but never satisfied with the notion of staying still. Consistent in terms of quality, what Cureation, with its career-spanning set list, makes remarkably clear is that, strip away the production and the music is remarkably timeless, tracks like three imaginary boys sounding as fresh on stage as the day it was written.
Available in a number of editions, The Cure: 40 Live – Curaetion-25 + Anniversary comes as standard in hardbook packaging featuring either 2 DVDs or 2 blu rays. For fans who really want to push the boat out, there’s also a super-deluxe box set featuring the DVDs, blu rays, and four CDs featuring the complete audio. This review covers the handsomely packaged double DVD edition. With a combined runtime of 280 minutes, this remarkable celebration of all things Cure features three shows. There are two shows on the Curaetion disc – From there to here and from here to there, which see the band picking one track from each of their thirteen albums and playing them in chronological (and reverse-chronological) order. The Anniversary disc is a single concert – albeit an absolute monster show – recorded at Hyde Park in front of a huge audience, many of whom seem to know the words to every song. Whilst there is inevitably some duplication in terms of content, there are enough differences to make each show a valuable addition to any collection and packaging them together in this way is a generous gesture from the band to their fans.
The audio, it has to be said, is absolutely stunning. Both DVDs offer audio Dolby Digital Stereo, 5.1 and DTS 5.1 (the latter being the ideal choice, equipment permitting), and they sound pristine, thanks to the mixing partnership of Paul Corkett and Robert Smith. On the packaging, a legend reads: “These shows were played loud – so please turn it up” and, whilst they’re clearly not joking, what they don’t mention is that, even at low volumes, the DTS mix lands with a neighbour-threatening force that is reference quality in terms of clarity and separation. Similarly, the video quality (particularly on the second disc) does full justice to the shows and this is one of the best concert DVDs you’ll see all year.
Kicking off with the first disc – Curaetion – The Cure are absolutely electrifying. Despite the fact that the band eschew showboating, they are all the more compelling for the honest interaction they have with each other and with the music. Undoubtedly aware of this, the Cure employed a stage set (reminiscent of the touring rig used by Fragile-era Nine Inch Nails), which provides a dynamic backdrop against which the band play, the screens flashing up imagery that dovetails neatly with the music. Thus, Robert Smith, as shyly reticent on stage as he is in the band’s many videos, stands, wreathed in smoke, his voice seemingly un-weathered by age as his band explore the different sonic characteristics of their back catalogue behind him.
Whereas, for some bands, the idea of curating a coherent setlist from thirteen albums recorded across forty years would be an absolute nightmare, what the Curaetion sets show is that the band’s evolution was a gentle one, each album moving forward whilst remaining true to the core sound that the band introduced with Three Imaginary Boys. The setlist choices are rarely straight forward and hits such as The Lovecats, Let’s Go To Bed, Close To Me, Lullaby, Mint Car and Wrong Number are all conspicuous by the absence. However, by avoiding more obvious numbers the band are able to weave a remarkably fluid setlist that neatly joins the dots (to coin a phrase), deep cuts nestled alongside the likes of A Forest and Boys Don’t Cry and really bringing the band’s history to life. This, coupled with the subtle style of director Nick Wickham, who uses effects sparingly to evoke the videos of the various periods represented, makes for a remarkably compelling show and the runtime (almost two-and-a-half-hours) flies by.
Trading the claustrophobic interior of The Royal Festival Hall for the grand surroundings of Hyde Park, Anniversary sees long-time Cure collaborator Tim Pope take the helm for a remarkable, two-hour exploration of the band’s history. Conceived as the Ultimate Cure Show and witnessed by 65,000 loyal fans, the set ditches chronology in favour of digging out the choicest cuts, Disintegration featuring heavily, as it accounts for six of the twenty-nine songs on offer.
Once again, it’s impossible not to marvel at how the band manage to make so expansive a space seem intimate. Perhaps it’s the decision to open with the ethereal beauty of Disintegration’s Plainsong, followed up immediately with that ode to loneliness, Pictures Of You, but there’s a feeling that the band are combating the heat and light of the sweet summer sun (to plagiarize the Rolling Stones) with their darkest material. A suspicion further reinforced when Robert laughingly acknowledges, in the wake of a gloomy High (complete with ironic “doo doo doo” chorus), that he can’t speak until the sun goes down. Despite the band’s protestations, the pace slowly builds and, following an elegant take on At Night Like This, the taut beats of The Walk (still sounding like a night at the local disco on Prozac) help to drive away the tunnel vision of the band’s more claustrophobic, allowing airier material to slowly permeate the entire park to the extent that, by the time they hit The End Of the World, they sound positively chirpy.
Whilst it’s initially a little incongruous to see The Cure in bright sunshine, the band make great use of the giant stage, with the un-tameable Simon Gallup (unable to stay still at the best of times) seemingly thrilled at the space space. As such, whilst Robert inevitably provides the band’s soul, Simon, with his driving energy and feral bass lines, provides the rock ‘n’ roll heart and his energy is infectious, locking with Jason Cooper to lay down a solid foundation upon which the other members build. This is nowhere more obvious than on a run of tracks that begins with a frantic Push, flies through an equally electrifying In Between Days, a long-favoured single that makes great use of acoustic guitar, and lands, still on its feet, on Just Like Heaven. A better soundtrack to the setting sun, it’s hard to imagine and, as Tim introduces a gauzy filter over the performance, so the whole thing seems to become a waking dream as audience and band coalesce, the raised voices of the former threatening to overwhelm the power of the latter.
Of course, as much as The Cure can crackle with electricity when the mood takes them, they’re not afraid to allow time to weave a mesmerising atmosphere and If Only Tonight We Could Sleep does exactly that, the eerie guitar lines weaving around one another in a serpentine fashion before tumbling, through the claustro-dub of Play For Today, into the post-punk nightmare of The Forest, an unnerving track that has lost none of its impact in the intervening four decades since its inception. Perhaps one of the finest four minutes in the band’s history, The Forest is played with the energy and excitement of a band who have just discovered it, although it’s very nearly eclipsed by a particularly potent take on Shake Dog Shake from the massively underrated The Top album. And then, as if the band know that they’re on a monstrous roll, they unveil a mesmerising take on Burn, a track written for The Crow soundtrack, and the temperature easily rises a couple of notches. As Tim Pope’s camera roves around the beautifully lit stage, Burn utterly cements the fact that this is one of the greatest live sets The Cure have ever played, and the film captures every element of it in perfect detail. It is utterly awe inspiring, even at the remove of watching it at home, and you can only imagine the energy of the night itself.
With the audience absolutely involved in the epic performance, The Cure reach into their catalogue to deliver an impressive mix of hits and bits. For the former, we get Never Enough, Lullaby, Friday I’m in Love and Boys Don’t Cry while, from the latter, a pulsing From The Edge Of The Deep Green Sea (from Wish) and early track Grinding Halt provide impressive moments before the band revisit their first ever single (Killing An Arab) for the finale. It places the perfect full stop at the end of a remarkable show where the band generously considered the wishes of the fans in compiling the setlist, even while remaining true to their own proclivities.
For the Cure fan, Curaetion + Anniversary truly is the mother-lode. Beautifully packaged with photos and liner notes, and available in a variety of configurations, it offers up an amazing overview of a consistently thrilling career. The band’s performances are exceptional, the setlists fascinating and the rare glimpses of self-deprecating humour (especially on the Anniversary show) paint a picture of a very human band celebrating a very extraordinary career. However, that’s not to say that this is fan service only, and even casual Cure fans will find a huge amount to admire in this attractive set. As perfect a summation of a band’s history as I’ve come across, and a taut reminder of The Cure’s continued relevance, this is a stunning DVD set. 9.5/10
