Cure

An emotion that renews itself cyclically. Every time you get the feeling it could be the last, and yet years later you find yourself once again immersed in a magma of sounds that shakes the soul.

For those who were just teenagers in the first half of the '80s, darkwave sounds accompanied a journey that today conjures a mix of relief and nostalgia. The nihilism and unease may be a thing of the past, but the fond memory remains of creative, pioneering times.

Memory inevitably drifts back to the Roman shows of the Cure of years gone by: November 1987, in the wake of the sonic deluge of "Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me"; June 1989, immersed in the keyboard downpour of "Disintegration", the last winning blow of the dark movement; October 1992, with the pleasantries of the best-seller "Wish"; October 1996, with the misstep of "Wild Mood Swing" but attention still fixed on their important past, with the shows turning into enjoyable marathons; June 2002, with the bloodstained flowers of "Bloodflowers" and the definitive confirmation of being among the greatest and most influential of all time; November 2004, the Colosseum providing a magical backdrop for an event that was too short and too crowded.

February 29, 2008, a leap-year date, Palalottomatica packed beyond belief for the twelfth stop of the European tour heralding the new album (will it be a double?) from Robert Smith's band. Tickets sold out for weeks, the crowd had memorized the other eleven shows kindly posted on YouTube, but the web's intrusiveness takes nothing away from the tension of the event: seeing them on the small window of your PC is one thing, finding them right in front of you is quite another.

There he is, Robert Smith, an absolute icon even if a bit paunchy these days, the two longtime friends Simon Gallup on bass (hair dyed red, younger now than when he was actually young), Porl Thompson (married to Smith's sister, which allows him to come and go from the band with a certain freedom) on guitar, for many the best guitarist the Cure have ever had, and Jason Cooper, the drummer of the band's more recent history.

65DaysOfStatic warm up the room with their solid post-rock, treating the Roman crowd to a handful of tracks, among which "Retreat! Retreat!" and a cover of Mogwai stand out. Then a change of stage, an agonizing wait, a few photos to kill time, the lights go down, and the music box intro kicks in heralding the best possible opener the Cure could give their fans: "Plainsong".

The choice to perform as a four-piece, without keyboards, strips the sound of the baroque grandiloquence that has always been the band's trademark: those parts are emulated with guitar effects skillfully handled by Smith and Thompson, without the final result suffering much, except for "The Walk", which comes across a little forced.

The first three songs on offer sketch out a heavily dark-tinted scenario: after "Plainsong" come "Prayers For Rain" and the unexpected "A Strange Day", the most welcome surprise of the night, especially for die-hard fans, the stuff of pure ecstasy.

Tracks from "Disintegration" dominate the first part of the setlist, with "Lovesong", "Pictures Of You" and "Lullaby" prominently featured, but the crowd, especially up in the stands, seems a bit stiff.

You have to wait for the dance-oriented run of “Push”-“Friday I’m In Love”-“In Between Days”-“Just Like Heaven”-“Primary” to see everyone jumping around like maniacs.

The elegant unreleased track “A Boy I Never Knew” acts as a bridge to the more rock-oriented part of the setlist, with guitars unfurling on “Us Or Them”, “Never Enough”, “Wrong Number”, and the monumental “One Hundred Years” and “Disintegration”, which fiercely seal off the first part of the show.

The three encores offered are thematic. The first digs up no fewer than four tracks from “Seventeen Seconds”, and watching from above as the crowd sings along to the chorus of “Play For Today” and reaches collective catharsis on the notes of “A Forest”—one of the absolute anthems of the goth movement—leaves you truly speechless.

The second encore turns the Palalottomatica into a glowing disco, thanks to the return of some of their most celebrated hits: “Let’s Go To Bed”, “Close To Me” and “Why Can’t I Be You?”

But it's the third encore that leaves everyone stunned: five tracks from “Three Imaginary Boys”, essentially like being sent back in time to witness a mini Cure concert from 1978: “Boys Don’t Cry”, “Jumping Someone Else’s Train”, “Grinding Halt”, “10:15 Saturday Night” and “Killing An Arab”. You couldn't ask for more: it's the final triumph.

Thirty-eight songs, three hours and five minutes of music, a bare-bones stage, a few slides projected on the big screen, minimal special effects, just a quartet of friends seasoned by time, and a set that amounts to the soundtrack of our lives. A great concert. And an emotion that renews itself, for the umpteenth time.

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