Review by Doug Cornell

To say that 1980 was a different time would be an understatement.  The Media didn't have nearly the power it does today, as there was no Internet (except for in universities), and only limited cable TV access.  If you were interested in new music, you read magazines like Trouser Press or Creem.  At the time, I was becoming disenchanted with popular music - it was beginning to become corporate sounding.  The record companies were pushing product, and what they were selling was Styx, Journey, and Turd Nugent.  For the most part, the punk scene had no effect on middle-America.  A select few knew about the Ramones and the Clash, but far more people were beginning to listen to the more accessible sound that was called "new wave."  You had a lot to chose from: Echo and the Bunnymen, The Psychedelic Furs, Patti Smith, Elvis Costello, and the Boomtown Rats were  very popular,  The Cure weren't quite in the same league, since their slightly psychedelic, understated style ran counter to what most acts were releasing.  I remember hearing "Jumping Someone Else's Train" from their first release, and thinking that the song was cool, but I wasn't really motivated to purchase an album by The Cure for many more years.

Which may be the reason that The Cure's founder, Robert Smith, so carefully re-mastered and re-packaged these three albums.  I don't have any idea how many of these records were sold in the U.S., but I imagine that Smith wanted these early recordings to reach a larger 21st century audience.

Of the three albums, Seventeen Seconds is by far the most enjoyable.  A very minimalistic production by Smith and Mike Hedges allows the music to breathe.  At the time, Seventeen Seconds was lumped in the gothic category, but it certainly isn't similar in any way to anything released by The Sisters of Mercy or Bauhaus.  Instead, it's a melodic, spacious collection of strange, guitar-driven songs.  Smith's thin voice hasn't changed much over the decades, but we can be thankful that the synthetic drum sounds of the era have disappeared.   Standout tracks include "A Reflection," which features a simple bass line, some fairly clever six-string work, and a Velcro keyboard melody, and "A Forrest," which is a song that has held up remarkably well.  The guitar picking is extremely simple, yet the instrumental textures combine to propel the song along at a steady pace.   Tracks like "Secrets," "In Your House," and others will be new to those who haven't heard anything from The Cure's early years, but are well worth hearing.

Besides providing a re-mastered collection of the original album's 10 tracks, this re-issue contains 15 bonus tracks.  You can listen to four tracks from Smith's first band, Cult Hero, as well as some early home demo's and rare live tracks from the era.

In 1981, The Cure discovered eyeliner and hair gel.  Embracing the Goth look, the band's sound got darker and generally less accessible.  Faith is denser sounding, has less dominant melodies, and seems to need a good shot of caffeine.  Mike Hedges was again the producer, but the band had a larger hand in creating the sound this time.  The opening track, "The Holy Hour," seems designed to bore the listener, but track two, "Primary," is actually quite lively and features a driving electric guitar rhythm.   "Other Voices" is well known for it's pulsating bass line, but "All Cats are Grey" is about as dull as The Cure can get.  "The Funeral Party" isn't exactly a load of fun either, as a very slow drum beat is accompanied with simple keyboard strings to no great effect.  Smith's voice, drenched in reverb, is really all that makes the song worth hearing.  Thankfully, the pace is picked up by the guitar-driven "Doubt," but the band gets all artsy again with "The Drowning Man."  The album closes with the plodding title track and a long, boring instrumental, "Carnage Visors: The Soundtrack."  I imagine a lot of people became seriously depressed after listening to this album.

In an attempt to make Faith a must-have for the true fan, Smith packed on 15 bonus tracks, which are mostly annoying demos of the studio tracks, or mediocre-sounding live tracks.  "Charlotte Sometimes" is the saving grace of the bonus material.  Evidently the song was originally released as a single, so it's nice to have it included on this set.

While Seventeen Seconds and Faith are crisp, clear sounding recordings, Pornography is a muddled sonic mess.  The sound is dense and claustrophobic, with everything drenched in reverb or delay.   The band tries to create a bigger drum sound, which is a minor improvement.  When listening to tracks like "One Hundred Years" or "A Short Term Effect" it's easy to imagine that drugs played an important part in the band's day-to-day functioning.  There's no denying that "The Hanging Garden" is a remarkable song, possibly even a prototype for all of the amazing music the band released in the later half of the 80's.  A driving bass line is complimented by intense percussion, subtle guitars, and Smith's piercing voice.  But as quickly as the pace heated up, it is slowed again by the plodding "Siamese Twins."   "The Figurehead," a mid-tempo number with a massive distorted bass line and arpeggiated guitars, ads value to this collection, and the melodies in "A Strange Day" contain unique textures.  The atmosphere turns suitably damp and haunting on "Cold," with it's beautiful Phantom of the Opera keyboard melody.  The closing title track begins with creepy reverse conversational sounds, and gets weirder as it continues through 6.5 minutes of drug-induced paranoia.

The bonus material is generous but largely of interest to only a true fan.  Smith must have had a blast discovering and re-mastering these songs, but they really don't bear up to repeated listening.

If I've been hard on these three CD's, let me set the record straight by saying that any fan of The Cure probably should own them.   Also, the packaging and Smith's generous liner notes are quite nice.