So, as I sit listening to the Cure's
Paris, I think I've found myself very, very interested in what exactly is going on. No, that isn't a cynical, sarcastic, or whatever you want to think, knick at the Cure. I honestly can't put my finger on what exactly makes me want to listen to this album more than just the initial listen that I give every album, at least. Though many people believe to this day that the Cure were whiny, depressing, and "goth," I find something very uplifting in their music that I guess some people tend not to notice. It's as if Robert Smith is standing there crying, but at the same time he's giving you a faint smile as if telling you that everything is going to be alright, despite his apparent gloom. Though the album is atmospheric and gloomy, it does absolutely nothing to put me down and ruin my mood. It's quite a thing when a band can do something like that, kind of like doublethink, but encoded into a compact disc. That's exactly what
Paris is, my friends.
Paris is essentially a long piece of mood music. All of the songs blend together; all one compilation of swirling, chorused guitars, reverberated, echoing vocals, shimmering bass, and atmospheric, dense synthesizer lines. The drums, too, can stand out if they want to, but they mainly supply a faint backing for the rest of the band. Robert Smith's voice is powerful and in full form, moaning and crooning overtop some of the most beautifully boring music that I've ever heard. No, that isn't a bad thing. The lyrics are almost inaudible, as it seems that emphasis is put more on mood than on the actual lyrical content of the songs.
Paris sounds as if you were actually there, with an enthusiastic crowd of who-knows-who listening intently to the glorious mess that is the Cure. Not every song is good, but you can hardly remember what song you were just listening to, as it segues into another dirge of a song. Eventually, you will just give up on trying to make out the lyrics or making out what each instrument is playing. Instead, I would advise you to just sit back and let this river flow over you. Who knows, you might just need a cold shower, even if your doubts are high.
