Guildenstern's Full Review: Wild Mood Swings by The Cure
Wild Mood Swings is The Cure’s 1996 album, and is widely regarded as their weakest, probably fairly. Because, to be perfectly honest, it’s not very good. It has some shining moments, but half the album is dross of the worst sort, making the album seem a lot worse than it actually is. And believe me, it hurts to have to say this about Robert Smith’s band, it really hurts. It’s not that the whole Wild Mood Swings thing doesn’t work – it’s just that the band come off as schizophrenics.
To be fair, Wild Mood Swings was the very first Cure CD I purchased, and although I immediately saw its problems, it also convinced me that The Cure were an astonishing band who demanded my attention. So, the good and the bad, in that order…
A few reasons not to hang Rob for recording this album…
Want, on its own, would justify the purchase of this CD, a stratospheric number that builds from the simplest of riffs, adding feedback and resounding drumming along the way, reaching the cathartic peak that is the emblematically existential line
I’ll never really get any more hope
Or any more time
How very cheerful. Put this in the perspective of the band’s career, and it’s a comparatively proactive philosophical moment – after all, at least the music is energizing, even if Rob is the greatest party pooper of all time. Which is actually not true either, but more about that later. Anyway, Want is one of The Cure’s finest songs ever, period. Club America will have been a surprise to Cureheads, principally because it rocks like a b!tch. Yes it does. Alright, The Cure had dabbled in fast-paced rock before, with Cut, Never Enough and all that. But nothing could have prepared the world for Rob modulating his voice into a self-parodic pouty drama-queen, indicting the pretentious upper reaches of social-strata. In fact, the song hits out most forcefully against America, equating the nation to the same sort of superficial social-event of the context.
We accept all major lies we love any kind of fraud
Harsh words indeed. Like all American-beating sentiments, they have their grain of truth, and the tongue-in-cheek tangent allows Rob to avoid sounding paranoid. However, most of what he says can just as easily be applied to the UK, or indeed any capitalist nation, so go figure. What really matters at the end of the day is that the song rocks. Really rocks.
This is a lie is another big reason for loving this CD. It’s a bit overstated and melodramatic, even by Robert Smith’s standards, but does the trick – the string melody simply gorgeous, accompanied by a subtly halting guitar rhythm. Robert probably overplays this one – the I’m-on-the-verge-of-tears edge to his voice seems a little cloying, and if you feel like really tearing this album apart, then I suppose you could complain about it. Personally, I think it’s lovely. Jupiter crash goes back to the olde feel of Cure misery, with a simple rhythm and lyrics all about sexual disappointment, and the failure of a relationship. Jason Cooper on drums does an amazing job, as Simon Gallup does his instantly recognisable thang on bass. Perry Bamonte on guitars and Roger O’Donnell on keyboards completes the line-up for thisCure incarnation. In fact, this one brings back many wonderful memories of personal misery-at-university, with its sad lyrics and echoed dramatics
Is this how a star falls?
Numb shows that the band had been listening to The Beatles a little too much, with the token Indian-inflected intro. Quickly the miserable feel of the band reinstates itself, turning into a song about drug dependency and loneliness. Nice but not the most memorable moment on the disc – compared to the worst stuff, it’s positively astonishing. Trap sees the boys rocking again, and not doing at all badly by all accounts. It’s no Club America, but it is a wonderful wake-up call at the end of the album after the mid-section of tripe. Treasure is a blissful little number, musically quite uplifting, and lyrically about remembering the good things after a broken relationship
For it’s better to forget
Than to remember me and cry
Aaaaaaaaah, I reckon Rob’s going soft in his old age. Anyway, a lovely song, followed by the other main reason for owning this album, Bare. It may be a little overlong, but it is a stunningly desolate acoustic guitar led song, once again about a break-up.
So if you’ve got nothing left to say
Just say goodbye
Just like Untitled on Disintegration, it’s a song about coming to terms with unhappiness, and managing to reflect calmly on a period of emotional upheaval. I will never forget ends the album, after the sad stop-start of the very end, as the memory fades to the back of the mind but refuses to be pushed down. Simply wonderful. See, Wild Mood Swings isn’t so bad is it?
Oh but it is.
A few reasons why Robert Smith deserves to be shot for recording this album…
First of all, I’m forcing myself to listen to all the worst moments on this disc in order to actually remember why I hated them – you see, I only ever listen to the good songs on this disc anymore, and refuse to sit and listen to the whole thing. Even though The 13th has a certain charm on the first few listens, Robert Smith sings about three different characters, and quite frankly, it’s physically painful to listen to. Right now I swear my knuckles are seizing up. Oh god it hurts….
But not as much as Strange attraction hurts. One of my very best friends absolutely swears by this song, but I really cannot understand the appeal of it. It’s arranged like a Rick Astley song, and makes me want to do cruel things to small animals. Nothing can possibly justify turning Mint car into a single, and it’s just one long musical cringe. Round & Round & Round is a little less annoying, but lyrically atrocious. Finally, the other ‘big’ single from the album is Gone! a song so out of character as to be inexplicable. I simply do not understand it, even in the context up upbeat songs like Hot! Hot! Hot! which is a great song. The worst song on the album with a difference is Return. What a way to ruin an album.
I can’t bear to listen to these songs any longer, and so I dismiss them as dross. Which is what they are.
So anyway, half a bad CD half a good CD. Not the dead-loss that Cureheads throughout the years have written it off as, but easily their worst disc. The high points remind you why The Cure are a classic band. The low points make you wonder what on earth Robert Smith was thinking of during the recording of the album.
Music. After the relatively straightforward {\pop} of {^Wish}, {$the Cure} moved back toward stranger, edgier territory with {^Wild Mood Swings}. Actu...More at DeepDiscount.com
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