Cope and the Cure

Press, 16 July 1987, Page 18

Cope and the Cure

JULIAN COPE “Saint Julian” (Island L 38654) Many years ago (well, the late 70s, early 80s) Julian Cope was the verge of big success with his band Teardrop Explodes — they were getting attention both critically and commercially, pop stars in their own right. Then, Cope ended it, sick of the way things were going, and he disappeared into a low-key life, releasing a couple of solo albums, all this reputedly the results of a drugged-out “dippy” mind — the product of too much LSD. Now Cope has shown us that all we heard in the past may not be true with the release of “Saint Julian” and even hit I singles in Britain. Cope’s new album is an honest-to-god rock record, perhaps not straightforward, but definitely rock. The opening track, “Trampolene” has a loud dense sound, building up to a hard-edged climax, showing us what’s ahead. Of course, being a rock record, one expects lots of guitars, and this is what we get — especially on tracks like “spacehopper” and “Pulsar” which positively revel in grungy riffs. There is more to “Saint Julian” than a big beat and loud guitars though; the songs have a real epic feel in most cases, thanks to Cope’s singing and the addition of grandiose keyboard lines and strings. This does start verging on the pretentious on some songs, “A Crack in the Clouds” being a good example, but this is only a small irritant. Then there is the first single “World Shut Your Mouth” — definitely epic, and removing any doubts about “Saint Julian” — it has to be one of the catchiest, most fun rock songs in a long time. Cope’s alleged past excesses may be the cause of the odd worldview of his lyrics — things like “I met God in a car dreaming dreaming ankerside” and “Dress Me Up Like a Rocket Ship and Drag You Screaming into My Belly” aren’t the normal concerns of most singers and they add a bizarre whimsical touch to the album. “Saint Julian” is a record demanding to be played loud, and has arrived to save us from the many bands around leaping onto the current rock revival — The Cult, for example, who are just taking themselves too seriously. With the initial copies of “Saint Julian” is included a free, limited edition interview record. Not essential listening, certainly, but it is interesting to hear Cope talking about himself and his record, wq<h listening to if you ca»get it — the interview

rounds “Saint Julian” of nicely. THE CURE “Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me” (Fiction 600143-1) Not having paid much attention to the Cure over the past couple of years, writing them off as having regressed to a rather vacuous pop group, it came as a considerable surprise to hear “Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me.” This is a very bleak not particularly happy album presenting a very distorted, almost gross, view of life and love, symbolised by the album cover’s extremely enlarged photograph of a pair of lips and an eyeball - bright and garish and almost repulsive. Robert Smith’s lyrics, too, present the listener with a very physical and extreme view of life — songs like “Torture,” “The Snakepit” and “The Kiss” are violent accounts of relationships, other songs suggesting Smith’s dissatisfaction with his life — very heavy topics which can get depressing in the extreme — and as there are 18 tracks over this double album, that’s not difficult. Fortunately, the varied selection of music isn’t all as nasty and negative as the lyrical content of the songs — there is the swirling orchestral “One More Time” or “Like Cockatoos,” the bouncy pop of “Why Can’t I Be You” or “Just Like Heaven,” to harder songs like “Shiver and Shake” or “The Kiss.” Throughout the music though, there is a constancy — a sort of psychedelic sound, although a very extreme form of psychedelia. Listen, for example, to “The Snakepit” with its hypnotic melody and, dare I say it, almost Eastern sound. This sort of psychedelic music is far preferable to that of bands like Doctor and the Medics, as there is some though that goes into the music of The Cure. As in the case of earlier albums by The Cure, such as “Pornography,” they have created a harsh, disillusioning record with Smith really getting into the tortured artist image, letting everyone into his problems, and they seem rather large ones, too. If you have heard the single “Why Can’t I Be You,” don’t judge the album by it — this is probably the lightest song on the entire album, and would have to be unrepresentative of the album over all. This album definitely won’t appeal to all, and could easily be called overblown or pretentious. But for me it manages to avoid this, resulting in what must be one of The Cure*best albums so fair ! O PAUL COLLEW.