Thirty years after it was released, “Disintegration” by The Cure remains a Goth masterpiece. It was Robert Smith’s answer to critics that his band (and, let’s be clear: it was HIS band) could still do moody, dark epics as well or better than anyone. No one was a bigger critic of Robert Smith than himself. So he brought it. It’s all there in its “Cure-iness.” Simon Gallup’s bass is the omnipresent driving low-end of the album. But it’s Smith’s lyrics about creepy lullabies, red-light districts, spidermen and, yes, even love that make “Disintegration” the masterpiece it remains today.
It’s a tale as old as time: Man reads Ann Frank’s “The Diary is a Young Girl.” Man weeps for three days straight. Man dreams of building a time machine to go back and save her. Man writes arguably one of the greatest Indy rock albums of all time. Can you say “cliche?”