The Cure- Faith

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Faith_(The_Cure_album)

Do you know what’s ironic about Faith? The title. Faith, as an album, is mostly one with a doomed message. It seems only the closing title track actually has a bit of hope in it; there’s nothing left but faith. When all else fails you’ve got belief in yourself or something and that’s all you need. It’s with this song that you would think The Cure would lighten up after this epic downer of an album. It is perhaps one of the best albums ever made.

Seventeen Seconds may have been an album that was fairly downbeat, but in all honesty it seems like a teaser trailer to the real misery that The Cure would embark on. Their keyboardist left, they had to go up and down the country just to put the album on tape, and they were starting to develop an alliance with cocaine. It didn’t exaclt help that Faith was made during a time when their family members were dying around them. But Robert Smith didn’t want to just give in like Ian Curtis did- he wanted to make an album personal to him. He wanted to cure himself.

And from that moment Faith was born: a 37 minute opus of sadness and misery. It is, to this day, possibly the greyest album ever made. It also happens to be one of the most reflective of The Cure’s discography. It delved even deeper into the repetition of Seventeen Seconds. This time The Cure didn’t hold back. Faith seemed like a difficult album to make and it showed. The album has a running concept, much like their extremely nihilistic follow up Pornography. While that album would be layered in anger, this album is layered in bleakness. The concept of this album is it’s title: faith. Out of the 3 albums in The Goth Trilogy, Faith has the most appropriate title. It’s religious references, clean guitar, thrumping bass, ambigous synths and pounding drums gave this album, ironically, a life of it’s own.

Robert Smith, Simon Gallup and Lol Tolhurst were lost. They all had deaths in their families, and the music they were playing had an impact on their moods. It showed.

The front cover, painted by Smith ally Porl Thompson, shows a castle painted in grey. The mood is set from that very moment. To put an explamation point on the feel of the album, just take a look at the titles: “All Cats Are Grey”, “The Funeral Party”, “The Holy Hour”. This is definetely not easy listening, but The Cure don’t care. Their goal is to provide you the music, if your intention is to spend 37 minutes in the dark.

The Cure have never been easy on the ears for a beginner, but this album is probably the hardest on to get into at first. Strangely enough, this album may be even more hard to listen to than Pornography. This album is full of religious references, and just by the title, the song titles and the cover that there is a story. A method to Smith’s madness, if you will.

The Holy Hour remains the perfect way to open an album as grey and as insightful as Faith. It kicks off the religious theme just through the opening bell sound effects. The bass line on The Holy Hour, played by Gallup through flanger, brings such power and such distinctive feel that it feels like he could just go on forever. Same too with Tolhurst, as Smith plays synth in the opening minute. Then it changes, as Smith’s clean guitar comes in. After a minute and a half, Smith has finally this to say:

“I kneel/And wait in silence/As one by one the people slip away”

His faith is already hanging in the balance. Just from the opening line, Smith has doubts. He is confused, alone and very misguided. Suddenly, within the remaining three minutes, he observes children playing, screams to God and ultimately turns his back on a loved one heavily influenced by faith (“I softly leave you crying”). This is the perfect introduction to an album like Faith: hit the nail right on the head. It’s safe to say from the opening line to the closing that Faith is a highly personal record.

Things, however, take an interesting turn. The same flanger effect erupts into Primary, yet another Cure classic. Oddly enough, both members of The Cure play bass on this song. In fact, this was the first ever Cure album to have 6-string bass from Robert Smith. Therefore, this was the first Cure album to truly highlight their distinictive sound. As a song, Primary is similar to Play For Today off Seventeen Seconds; in fact, Primary was selected as the only single off Faith because of it’s pace. Robert Smith seems to concern himself with growing up, and perhaps even a tribute to Ian Curtis (“The further we go, the more that we grow/the more we know, the less we show”). A track like this certaintly sets the standard for Faith. Another Cure classic.

Things get intense and even funky with Other Voices. Robert Smith this time finds himself isolated, feeling he lives in desertion, and “eight million people”. He even mentions Christmas. But surely Simon Gallup’s bassline steals the show. Keyboards and repetition come into play for the next two tracks, All Cats Are Grey and The Funeral Party. The former is an almost instrumental piece, until Robert Smith sings for about 30 seconds. The drums are pretty good on this track, but it’s the latter track that is the most morbid track on the album. Written by Smith about his grandmother’s death, The Funeral Party is a song right in the centre of his heart, where he is left with only one solution (“Dancing at the funeral party”). Surely Smith must lighten up.

Doubt, though much more alive than the previous two tracks, doesn’t exactly lighten things up. From it’s snarls to it’s confessions, it is easily the most aggresive thing The Cure have ever recorded (given the tracks on their follow-up, THAT’S saying something). Robert Smith goes as far as wanting someone dead on this track, and seeks revenge on the time that has been spent in a relationship. Robert Smith signs off the song with a chilling revalation (“Knowing I’ll murder you again tonight”). Surely now the next track will be a bit more easy on the ears. The answer is no, simply because of the open drums. Lyrically, the song depicts a young girl called Fuschia who drowns. The song is based on a series of books Smith read, and at the end of the song, he finds himself “breathing like the drowning man”. Simon Gallup’s bass goes high on this song, giving it an even more distinctive sound. It also happens to be the song that sounds the most like something off Closer, Joy Division’s last album.

The only track that even has a faint flicker of hope is the closing title track. Strangely enough, lyrically, this song is the most disturbing on the album. Smith invites you “Rape me like a child/Christened in blood”. He describes a party where “No one lifts their hands/No one lifts their eyes”. As a song, Faith has the only optimistic message on the entire CD. The ironic thing is that to get to that, you have to go through his suffering. Robert Smith repeats the now legendary line “With nothing left but faith” for 2 minutes until the track gradually dies.

If you think that an album of doom-and-gloom was enough for The Cure, they had a world tour lined up, therefore the same bleak and depressing mood would carry on for another 6 months. The Picture Tour was endless for The Cure, and just from a few clips I’ve seen on Youtube, it looked that way. The Cure had evolved, in one way or another. Whether or not Robert Smith intended it to, The Cure had made an album so influential that if you ask any Goth, they would 8 times out of 10 tell you this was one of their favourite albums.

The Cure needed a break. A joke, a holiday, something. Lord knows what they were thinking. There had been deaths in their families, shows became morbid and the band started to turn their back on each other. Tolhurst needed it, to regain his strength. Gallup needed it, so he could see his family again. They were going to come home. They had to come home. Smith, however, had other ideas.