"PRIMARY" THE CURE (1981)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Faith (1981) - Track 2

Ranking: 4

Faith is one of my least favorite Cure albums. While many of their records have an incredible cohesiveness and consistency matched with exceptional sequencing, Faith’s vulnerability is that it succumbed to including a few filler tracks. When I listen to Pornography or Disintegration, I don’t want it to end. But in the case of Faith, I skip straight to Track 2, and often play it endlessly on repeat. Track 2 captures the essence of The Cure. It showcases their refusal to conform to anything normal. There’s nothing else like it. In fact, “Primary” is even unique as far as Cure standards go.

The bass will forever be my favorite instrument. For me, its rhythmic sounds are always in the foreground, not the background. That’s why the rare song “Primary” by The Cure is such a treat. It doesn’t have a single element of electric or acoustic guitar. Instead, it boasts two bass guitars, played by Simon Gallup, of course, as well as Robert Smith. Dueling, grating bass guitars playing on separate octaves and achieving The Cure’s ambitious post-punk agenda.

“The very first time I saw your face I thought of a song and quickly changed the tune.”

"PUSH" THE CURE (1985)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: The Head On The Door (1985) - Track 5

Ranking: 5

The Head on the Door was the first album from The Cure that I loved from beginning to end. Each song seemed to flow perfectly into each other. They worked together brilliantly as a cohesive collection of songs, and the band seemed to strike the perfect sequence of tracks. “Push” was the mid-tempo connective tissue between the slow meanderings of “Six Different Ways” and the manic pacing of “The Baby Screams”. It’s also one of my favorite Cure songs of all time.

“Push” was written to thrive in live performances. While the band is well-known for launching into long musical preludes prior to the first verse of many of their songs, “Push” literally pushed the band’s own limits, not introducing Robert Smiths’ vocals until after the 2:23 mark. This delay gave all the gorgeous, swirling layers of instrumentation the spotlight — from the percussion fills of new drummer Boris Williams to the guitar and synth attack from Smith, Tolhurst and Porl. More than 35 years after it was recorded, it still holds up.

“A smile to hide the fear away. Oh smear this man across the walls. Like strawberries and cream. It’s the only way to be.”

"THE SAME DEEP WATER AS YOU" THE CURE (1989)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Disintegration (1989) - Track 9

Ranking: 6

The task of picking my favorite tracks from Disintegration is a lot like splitting hairs. They’re all so good. Truth is, any one of them could’ve ranked as high as #6 on my list of Top 30 Cure songs. Disintegration is one of the most cohesive and exceptional albums I’ve ever heard. Fans often comment on how it’s a perfect rainy day album. This is largely due to two things: the introspective nature of the music and the lyrical preoccupation with water. I will say this about “The Same Deep Water As You” though. Of all the tracks, it’s simultaneously the most morose and the most majestic song on the album. And that’s saying something.

Like many Cure songs, the guitars on this track are laying bare all the emotions of the protagonist in the lyrics. It could be a song about suicide. Or it could be a song about sticking through a relationship that has no positive end in sight. The song’s meaning almost doesn’t matter at all. It’s not about what the song is trying to say, it’s about how it makes you feel. Those ceremoniously monolithic synth notes. The cascading guitar riff that drips, ripples and leaks into your soul. And Robert letting out the words like his final gasp for air before the water level rises over his head. “The Same Deep Water As You” reminds us to embrace every feeling and emotion and give them their proper moment.

“Kiss me goodbye, pushing out before I sleep. Can't you see I try? Swimming the same deep water as you is hard.”

"A FOREST" THE CURE (1980)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Seventeen Seconds (1980) - Track 7

Ranking: 7

Few Cure songs have meant more than this one. Throughout the band’s storied canon, you can easily make the argument that no other Cure track has had the impact that “A Forest” has had all these years. “A Forest” is the song that has been performed in concert the most – more than “Boys Don’t Cry” despite being released later. The various studio and remix versions are great, but the best way to hear the song is truly live in concert. It’s practically a spiritual experience where Robert and Simon play in sync face to face. I always liked the song, but I remember the first time I heard it live the song seemed to take on another life. It seemed almost larger than life.

“A Forest”, in many ways, is the quintessential Cure song. It highlights the fact that the whole is far greater than the sum of its parts. Gallup’s iconic bass line beckons and haunts, but it’s nothing without Smith’s counterpart musings on guitar. Hartley’s keys on the original recording seem almost overly simplistic, yet complement the rest of the instrumentation perfectly. The song also captures Smith’s knack for recreating emotions. In “A Forest”, he doesn’t just speak of the fear of getting lost in the forest, he reenacts the fear and pushes the feeling into the listener’s own psyche. My favorite part of the song is when the fear as overwhelming as it becomes, dwindles down to nothing via Gallup’s sputtering bass line closer. Like waking up from a nightmare.

“The girl was never there. It’s always the same. I’m running towards nothing. Again and again and again.”

"A STRANGE DAY" THE CURE (1982)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Pornography (1982) - Track 6

Ranking: 8

I’m a late bloomer to The Cure’s fourth studio album, considered by many to be among their finest recordings, maybe only bested by Disintegration. The album is incredibly confident, distinct and, most importantly, influential. Pornography is considered to be a significant milestone in the development of gothic rock. While it may not be one of the band’s more accessible outputs, it seems to get better with time. Casual fans might like One Hundred Years and The Hanging Garden best, but “A Strange Day” is my favorite standalone track from the record – and clocks in at my #8 spot.

While I stand by my words that the entire Pornography album has aged extremely well, “A Strange Day” takes things to another level. Not just a blueprint for goth rock, the track is a foreshadowing of post-punk revival. It recalls sounds that began resurfacing in the early 2000s from bands like Editors and Interpol. The instrumental refrain at the 3:30 mark is especially reminiscent of Interpol’s debut album, Turn On The Bright Lights. “A Strange Day” is a dark, monumental display of Smith, Gallup and Tolhurst in complete lock step – from the cold, calculating snare hits and grating guitar riff to the haunting keyboard chords and trickling sound effects.

“Held for one moment I remember a song. An impression of sound. Then everything is gone forever.”

"THE KISS" THE CURE (1987)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me (1987) - Track 1

Ranking: 9

The double album Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me captured the full spectrum of human emotions. It also showcased the band’s versatile instrumentation, especially on guitar. The rich, vast explorations on the album make it a great one to re-explore. Many people point to The Head On The Door as the start of The Cure’s imperial era, and Disintegration is universally recognized as the band’s masterpiece. Which sorta makes Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me a slightly underrated album, despite housing some of the band’s most well-known singles. One of my favorite tracks is the scorching, perilous opener “The Kiss”.

“The Kiss” is like the evil cousin of New Order’s “The Perfect Kiss”. It’s not a pretty affair. This Track One has four stages in a sprawling magnus opus. First, the lover is beckoned over. In the second stage, the lover becomes the subject of utter infatuation. Quickly, things make a turn for the worse. In the third stage, the lover is now suddenly the subject of disdain. And by the fourth and final stage, there’s nothing left except the protagonist’s wish for the lover to leave this world. In six minutes, it goes from “the” kiss to the kiss of death, flanked by a loud, wailing guitar that’s nearly possessed and Boris’ emphatic pounding on the drums that deliver the final nails in the coffin. Just brilliant in every regard.

“I never wanted any of this.”

"CHARLOTTE SOMETIMES" THE CURE (1981)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Single (1981)

Ranking: 10

A great homage and moment in music history occurred at the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame ceremony in 2019. One highly influential person – Trent Reznor – delivered a moving speech and introduction to a band many considered to be one of the most influential acts in alternative and gothic rock. Reznor spoke about the moment he first discovered The Cure on the radio and how the songs gave him a sense of solace. More telling and powerful, he spoke of what The Cure did for all its fans: create a world for us to get lost in. This world is clearly evident in the cloudy, murky beauty of “Charlotte Sometimes”.

I didn’t discover “Charlotte Sometimes” until I got my Standing On A Beach compilation cassette. The song is like a fictitious universe covered in a cloudy haze. Listening to “Charlotte Sometimes” is like stepping into an echo chamber. Smith’s vocals surround us wherever we turn, although he seems like he’s worlds away. The keys create a swirling, encapsulating cocoon for the listener driven by Gallup and Tolhurst’s rhythmic bed. Tolhurst uses electronic drums on this track, reminiscent of incessant, unanswered door knocks.

"A LETTER TO ELISE" THE CURE (1992)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Wish (1992) - Track 9

Ranking: 11

One of the worst, overly simplistic assumptions that listeners have made about The Cure’s music is that it exists on two extreme ends of the human spectrum: doom & gloom on one end and pure euphoria on the other. But nothing could be further from the truth. What makes The Cure so irresistible to its fans after all these years is their ability to encapsulate every human emotion with such genuineness and transparency. What takes many of their songs to the next level is their ability to encompass multiple emotions together, like what they did with Wish’s third and less successful single “A Letter To Elise”.

I think sometimes the reasons why people have such difficulty describing their emotions is because we’re feeling multiple things. There are often layers to sort through, not just these one-dimensional feelings. “A Letter To Elise” is a letter driven equally by remorse and nostalgia. Inspired by Kafka’s “Letters to Felice”, the track seems to be helplessly stuck in a complicated web of romance, regret and loss. Love is a complicated thing. Finally the world had a song that gave it some justice.

“But I let the dream go. And the promises broke. And the make-believe ran out...”

"LULLABY" THE CURE (1989)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Disintegration (1989) - Track 6

Ranking: 12

The stark contrast between U.K. and U.S. audiences is crystal clear when it comes to this classic, imperial-era Cure song. “Lullaby” was chosen as the lead single off Disintegration in the U.K., and climbed all the way to #5 on the charts. Meanwhile, “Lullaby” was passed over as the lead single in the U.S., where “Fascination Street” was chosen instead. The song was eventually picked as the second single in the U.S., but barely made a dent on the charts. My conclusion: U.K. once again proved their musical taste superiority over the U.S. “Lullaby” is a fantastic track – and could’ve easily slipped into my own Top 10 here.

A fellow music fan in the Twitterverse referred to “Lullaby” as a jaunt. I can’t think of a better word to describe the track. There’s a rhythm on the song that seems staccato in one sense and legato in another. When I first heard it, it felt like my body was learning an entirely new groove. On the instrumental side of things, the song is pure genius. Every element seems to further the story of a spiderman closing in on the protagonist – from the plucking violins that mimic the movement of a spider’s legs to the sweeping string overtures that spin a web of horror. “Lullaby” is timeless. I saw The Cure perform it in 2016 at MSG. But it felt like I was right back in the beautiful spring of 1989 when Disintegration descended on the music world.

“And there is nothing I can do when I realize with fright that the spiderman is having me for dinner tonight.”

"OPEN" THE CURE (1992)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Wish (1992) - Track 1

Ranking: 13

The weight of importance of an album’s opening track cannot be exaggerated. It’s a big, big deal. Track 1 has to set the mood. It has to reel you in. It has to assure that all is good with the band you’re listening to. They haven’t gone off the deep end, but they continued to push things forward. I had high expectations for the Wish album when it came out. Disintegration was the band’s last studio output – a record that put the band on a whole other level. Then a year later, The Cure released a mix compilation called Mixed Up. In my opinion, it was pretty pedestrian. Wish was the band’s opportunity to get back to the studio and create something special. I think they pulled it off – and “Open” did its job as Track 1.

There are several stellar opening tracks by The Cure: Plainsong, The Kiss, One Hundred Years to name a few. “Open” may not be in the upper echelon, but it certainly deserves a spot in that next tier of Track Ones. Curiously, The Cure sounds like The Cure here, but the guitars have adapted almost seamlessly into the grunge era with a new feedback-soaked sound. This characteristic alone makes “Open” a compelling opener. Smith sings. “I really don't know what I'm doing here” as his post punk band stumbles into a musical period built around Seattle, not Crawley. And I’m utterly fascinated – and drawn into Wish. Not their best album, but an output that belongs firmly in the top half of their catalog.

“I really don't know what I'm doing here.”

"PLAINSONG" THE CURE (1989)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Disintegration (1989) - Track 1

Ranking: 14

Before Disintegration was released, I heard a few individual tracks on my local alt rock radio station WDRE. If my memory serves me correctly, I heard at least three or four songs before I heard the full album. But that didn’t take anything away from the power of the album for me. There isn’t a mediocre track on the entire record. It’s also an incredibly cohesive album. And then there’s the fact that it opens with one of the strongest, most memorable, most mindblowing openers in music history. The one with the understated title: “Plainsong”.

There’s certainly nothing plain about it. “Plainsong” The track seems to awaken itself. Its slumber is disturbed by movement in the air with opening wind chimes. Then before you know it, the song has thrown itself into a state of catharsis. “Plainsong” is utterly lush. Almost stately in its orchestral wanderings. The protagonist in the lyrics could potentially be caught in a downpour, but it also might very well be a baptism. Smith’s echoing vocals sound like he’s underwater. The synthesizers sound like crystalline reflections sparkling along the surface, joined by Gallup’s bass meanderings that are higher than usual a la Hooky. By the end of the track, the listener is fully submerged. It’s unavoidable every single time.

“Sometimes you make me feel like I'm living at the edge of the world.”

"PLAY FOR TODAY" THE CURE (1980)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Seventeen Seconds (1980) - Track 2

Ranking: 15

I won’t go as far as to say that the darker stuff from The Cure is the only good stuff. But more often than not, the band has been able to create darker moods and explore darker emotions rather successfully. It never feels contrived or overly dramatic when they go in this direction. The dark period began with Seventeen Seconds, an abrupt 180 degree change from Three Imaginary Boys, which contained varying strands of pop and post punk. On Seventeen Seconds, there was a concerted effort to create music more akin to Siouxsie & The Banshees than XTC. The biggest lineup change was Dempsey’s exit who was replaced by Gallup on bass. Almost overnight, the band’s aura and expression changed completely. Seventeen Seconds is one of my favorite Cure records – and “Play For Today” is one of my go-to tracks.

There’s a dark, brooding atmosphere enveloping the album as a whole, but Track 2 marches to the beat of a different drum. The upbeat nature of “Play For Today” stems from the drum part and bass line from which the rest of the song seems to build out from. Smith’s opening guitar harmonics and ensuing grating strums are memorable, but they’re not what drive the song. Even the melody seems to be birthed out of the rhythm section. Hartley’s melodious, single-note ode on the keys hums along the surface and in the spotlight, but even his notes ride the rhythmic bed laid down by Tolhurst and Gallup. Not the other way around. “Play For Today” is a study in restraint. Never in excess. Just enough to work marvelously.

“It's not a case of doing what's right. It's just the way I feel that matters.”

"THE HANGING GARDEN" THE CURE (1982)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Pornography (1982) - Track 3

Ranking: 16

Just outside my Top 15 sits the lone single from Pornogrpahy: “The Hanging Garden”. You could easily make the argument that the album shouldn’t have had any singles. It just wasn’t that kind of album. A sort of purge for Smith, the album was a way to get the demons out of his head during a very dark period wrought with suicidal thoughts. It’s one of the finest examples of hyper creativity and expressions born out of desperation, an album best suited to listen in its entirety. But, at the same time, there are a handful of tracks that I can listen to in isolation on repeat. “The Hanging Garden” is one of them.

The song is a perfect example of the influence that Siouxsie & The Banshees had on The Cure’s own musicality. Smith played with Siouxsie briefly in 1979 – and then again the year after Pornography was released. Interestingly, “The Hanging Garden” sounds a lot like early Siouxsie. Tolhurst’s frantic, incessant pounding on his kit are reminiscent of Budgie’s drumming. Gallup’s furious bass playing bares an uncanny resemblance to Steven Severin. And even Smith’s atmospheric guitar riffs sound eerily similar to both McKay’s and McGeoch’s playing style. On “The Hanging Garden”, every instrument – including Robert’s voice – is a rhythm instrument. I think that’s a big reason why I’ve always loved this track so much.

“Catching haloes on the moon gives my hands the shapes of angels. In the heat of the night the animals scream. In the heat of the night walking into a dream.”

"FASCINATION STREET" THE CURE (1989)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Disintegration (1989) - Track 7

Ranking: 17

The Cure’s ability to embody the full range of human emotions is a topic that I’ve brushed upon these past couple of weeks. I think it’s an underrated aspect of the band because there are two common misconceptions of the band that prevent casual listeners from realizing this truth. First, many listeners simple write them off as a “doom & gloom” goth band. Second, others say The Cure oscillates between two extremes: misery and elation. The reality is The Cure catalog spans every imaginable emotion that a person can feel. People say Disintegration is downcast throughout, but there are a few songs that exude something far different. One of those tracks is “Fascination Street”.

This was one of the first songs I heard from Disintegration, and I’ve loved it from the beginning. It has held up remarkably well over time. This one’s a true banger. Sonically The Cure are in full force here, there’s little nuance, and there’s plenty of force. The instrumental layering that The Cure is so good at here isn’t subtle. On “Fascination Street”, the guitars shimmer and swirl – and erupt in intervals. The keys play a more atmospheric and complementary role on the track – doing just enough and highlighted by those unforgettable arpeggios. The driving force of “Fascination Street”, of course, is the rhythm. Boris’ drumbeats are nearly stumbling over one another while Simon’s bass line crawls insistently inside your head and stays put. Robert doesn’t start singing until the 2:22 mark, and rightfully so. He nails the vocals, but the instruments are the elements that create the thrilling mood of a reckless, liberating night in New Orleans.

“So just pull on your face. Just pull on your feet. And let's hit opening time down on Fascination Street.”

"TORTURE" THE CURE (1987)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me (1987) - Track 3

Ranking: 18

This month, as I’ve been picking my favorite Cure songs I’m reminded of the sheer depth of the band’s music. Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me is generally regarded as one of the better albums – ahead of the stinkers (The Top, I’m lookin’ at you), but behind the heavy hitters: Disintegration, Seventeen Seconds, Pornography and The Head On The Door. Thing is, listening back to this album, I’m thoroughly impressed at how deep this album is. For a double-length album, it has very few low points. The record captures a very fruitful period of songwriting for the band. And Track 3 is right up there with the best of them.

The Cure has some real bangers – and this is one of them. I don’t care so much for the lyric’s meaning (is it about domination?). For me, the strength of the song is the instrumentation. The song kicks off like a solemn march into a dark dungeon where escape isn’t an option. Once inside, the torture begins (“Hanging like this. Like a vampire bat.”) Gallup’s bass line erupts like a volcano, and sounds like the thing that’s administering the pain. “Torture” is a song I wish they would play live more – I’d go for this one over “Just Like Heaven”, “Hot Hot Hot!!!” and “Why Can’t I Be You?” any night of the week.

“I'm here for one more treacherous night.”

"THE UPSTAIRS ROOM" THE CURE (1983)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: “The Walk” 12” Single (1983) - Track 1

Ranking: 19

A significant departure from Pornography, the 12-inch release of “The Walk” seemed to have a pep in its step. It was like a 180 degree turn toward a poppier, catchier agenda. While “The Walk” was one of those early classic Cure singles that brought me into the fold, the b-side gem “The Upstairs Room” is actually my favorite track from the single release. Despite the departure of Simon Gallup, one of my favorite bass players of all time, the band found a way to move forward and do some interesting things musically.

“The Upstairs Room” has a few subtle, unexpected tendencies, starting with its abrupt beginning. It’s a song that seems to waste no time getting ramped up with Tolhurst’s dreamy, layered synth hooks that feel like a lullaby. Then Robert’s signature guitar riff enters the song like a night terror bout, waking us from our synth bubble. Gallup’s absence from the band is certainly felt on “The Upstairs Room” and its single counterpart “The Walk”. But Smith and Tolhurst deserve credit for staying the course after this tumultuous period in the band’s history.

“I love it all, these games we play. I close my eyes. You run away.”

"A NIGHT LIKE THIS" THE CURE (1985)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: The Head On The Door (1985) - Track 8

Ranking: 20

In my opinion, this is where the golden age of The Cure began. A string of early albums (Seventeen Seconds, Faith, Pornography) had exceptional moments. But The Head on the Door is where it all came together. The sound was full, now featuring a quintet: Robert Smith who wrote all the songs, Lol Tolhurst on keys, Porl Thompson as a multi-instrumentalist, Simon Gallup laying down the bass lines and Boris Williams on drums. The album is tight from start to finish – and one of the standouts appears midway through Side B: “A Night Like This”.

Probably one of my all-time favorite Cure jams, “A Night Like This” is a prime example of the band’s expertise in musical layering, where each instrumentalist finds his own unique territory and no one is stepping into another’s territory. Yet, the power of The Cure is that the songs are so incredibly cohesive. In this Head On the Door classic, Tolhurst’s iconic chords on the keys fade in first and luring us in. Smith and Porl spin these gorgeous, intricate webs on their guitars. Their riffs form the bedrock of the song, not the rhythm section, which becomes the most prominent aspect of the track. Gallup’s bass lines are perhaps the most memorable aspect of the song, and Williams goes toe to toe with Gallup’s heavy imprint on his drum set. On the studio version, session contributor Ron Howe blasts out a sax solo for the ages. One of the most epic concerts I’ve ever been to was The Cure at MSG in 2016 – “A Night Like This” sounded as sharp and relevant as it was 30 years prior.

“You never looked as lost as this. Sometimes it doesn't even look like you.”

"LOVESONG" THE CURE (1989)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Disintegration (1989) - Track 4

Ranking: 21

One thing about the entire Disintegration album is that my love for it has never really wavered. I can’t say the same for other Cure albums. My affinity for Seventeen Seconds and Pornography has grown over time. And my love for The Head On the Door and Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me may have slipped a bit over the same period. But Disintegration has always been up there for me. “Lovesong” might be so obvious a pick that it’s actually not obvious at all. After all, it’s one of the few Cure anthems that non-Cure fans actually know. Coincidentally, it’s one of the few songs from the band that I truly admire despite its mainstream-ness. That’s certainly not the case for me when it comes to lighter, poppier songs like “Just Like Heaven” or “Friday I’m In Love”.

On “Lovesong”, it feels like each element of the song is making love to the other elements in its own way. The guitar is in command and on top. The synth layers are underneath, responding and moving in rhythm. And the unforgettable bass line spends time both on top and underneath. For me, there’s nothing temporal about the song’s composition as I’ve never gotten sick of it. The instrumental layers are just perfectly in step with each other. And the lyrics, there’s nothing temporal about those either. The song is about being there for the love of your life – through thick and thin.

“Whenever I'm alone with you, you make me feel like I am home again.”

"THE FIGUREHEAD" THE CURE (1982)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Pornography (1982) - Track 5

Ranking: 22

The album Pornography is widely considered to be among the band’s most influential recordings. It’s one of those albums whose admiration and appreciation seem to grow over time. Its legacy was obvious early on as one of the seminal recordings of gothic rock. But its influence extended well into the early 2000s with bands like Interpol and Editors. Pornography is also one of those albums that’s best suited for listening from start to finish. That said, “The Figurehead” is a standout for me from the album and the band’s catalog at large.

The weight of “The Figurehead” is nearly unbearable. Either it’s pulling you down with it – or it meets you down below where you already are. It’s no coincidence that the songs of Pornography – including this one – coincide with one of the band’s darkest periods, an era ridden with heavy drug use, in-fighting and Robert’s suicidal thoughts. Just as every circumstance surrounding the band felt unbearably heavy at the time this song was written and recorded, every element of the track seems to carry that same heaviness. The deathly drum march. The dense bass meanderings. The tormented, minor-chord musings of Smith’s guitar. And the overwhelming sense of finality echoing out of his mouth and mind.

“I can never say no to anyone but you.”

"HOT HOT HOT!!!" THE CURE (1987)

I’m not sure if there’s a band that I can claim as my favorite of all time, because the reality is I have a different favorite every day. This process of choosing one favorite over all others seems futile. But, for me, The Cure, is about as close as it gets. For me, their music is irreplaceable. There are things that I feel when I put on a Cure record that I can’t experience with anything else. For the month of June, I hope to share some of this as a I cover a different Cure song each day – counting down from #30 to #1. And, in this case, I have no qualms stating my #1. #30DaysofTheCure

U.S. original release: Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me (1987) - Track 11

Ranking: 23

This track has lived under the shadow of “Just Like Heaven” and “Why Can’t I Be You?” since the day Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me was released. But it’s the single that I prefer most from the album. It’s proof of one of the most unique qualities of The Cure: their ability to capture a wide range of emotions and expressions. This is one of the qualities that has made The Cure so desirable among its fans. It’s hard, indisputable evidence that the band is far more than doom & gloom. They can do euphoric. They can do whimsical. And in the case of “Hot Hot" Hot!!!”, they can capture pure ecstasy.

The track is far more than just a catchy pop single. To this day, I still am unclear what “Hot Hot Hot!!!” is about, but that hasn’t impacted my appreciation for it. The song captures a sense of ecstasy in all its layers – most notably through Robert’s dynamic and playful vocals, Gallup’s unforgettable bass line groove, Porl’s twangy guitar chords and the keys which mimic a horn section at one point in the song. Somehow the song hasn’t received the best of reviews from the critics. But it’s still one of my favorites from a vast, double-length album.

“For a second, that room was on the moon. Then everything went black. I left that house on fire and I never went back.”