It starts around Christmas last year, in my omnipotent benignity I realised exactly what the best present for all 4 of my nuclear family would be, tickets for a band that we all love who are playing a festival tour in far off August, in even further off Edinburgh.
It is a great family choice because whilst Mrs 1537 and I have cut many a caper to the Cure’s more up-tempo tunes in student discos/dingy nightclubs both together and apart, it isn’t really until my kids got really into them that my own love for them blossomed to the extent it has now.
Which is how we all find ourselves crushed together as a family amongst an exceedingly benign crowd, two bodies from the barrier at the Royal Highland Showgrounds baying like wolves at a bunch of middle-aged men gently strolling onto a stage. They open with ‘Plainsong’ and Robert Smith, entering a heartbeat after the rest takes his time, walking to both sides of the stage, really taking everything in before he sings the opening lines to that feelgood hit of the summer:
"I think it's dark and it looks like rain, " you said
"And the wind is blowing
Like it's the end of the world, " you said
"And it's so cold, it's like the cold if you were dead"
Then you smiled for a second
I shan’t bore (into) you too much, but the Cure were everything I hoped they would be and more, actually. I knew they would be brilliant, effortlessly moving from gothic curlicues and sadness, ‘Trust’ and a very heartfelt take on ‘Disintegration’, to songs I have danced to for almost 40 years now, ‘In Between Days’ and ‘Lullaby’. Damnit, I knew the Cure would be amazing live but they were so much better even, than I had thought they could be.
The setlist was so great, definitely better than a couple of others from this same tour even, getting ‘Three Imaginary Boys’ and a slow ‘Charlotte Sometimes’ were real treats. I was so pleased they played ‘Lovecats’, I had thought RS didn’t like it much, it was a thrill. Of course some of the real highs were predictable ‘Just Like Heaven’*, ‘Burn’, ‘Friday I’m In Love’** and that swoonsome guitar swoop on ‘Push’. It was, just like heaven.
The cuts that stayed with me were ‘Prayers For Rain’ and ‘Pictures Of You’, they really are quite perfect, heartfelt and charming.
The band were all faultlessly great, clearly enjoying themselves too but I was a little unprepared for just how endearing I found Robert Smith to be. He ambled on stage like a slightly naughty womble, exuding a rather touching humbleness and graciousness; when he thanked us he meant it, when he told us how much singing ‘Disintegration’ took from him emotionally, likewise. I love him. His voice is absolutely spot-on, a really powerful and subtle instrument, plus I never think he really gets credit for just how good a guitarist he is.
Did I mention that I love him yet?
Sadly, it has to end and he releases us back into the real world, sweaty and enriched beyond measure.
Happy Christmas!
Lucky little piggies that we are, we got Slowdive and Mogwai as support acts^. Mogwai were great, it was my third time around for them and they played it punchy and uncompromising – I loved seeing those Palestinian and Trans flags draped across their amps every bit as much as I loved the John Carpenter groove of ‘Remurdered’. Slowdive were a real revelation to me though, dismissed as a bit naff by a younger me and reintroduced to me via my son and heir, they were an absolute force live, I’d happily see them again.
1325 Down, but back.
*definitely one of my favourite ever songs about bedroom sports.
**which I used to dance to while holding my baby daughter and I now got to dance to with her in a field, now she’s 24.
^we only caught the dying minutes of Just Mustard’s set, sorry.
