Editor’s Note: From Albumism’s inception back in 2016, we’ve remained unabashedly and unequivocally passionate about our mission of celebrating the world's love affairs with albums past, present and future.

But while our devotion to the album as an art form has remained steadfast, as evidenced by our deepening repository of individual album tributes and reviews, we’ve admittedly seldom taken the opportunity to explicitly articulate our reverence for the virtues of artists’ complete album repertoires as a whole.

Hence why we’ve decided to showcase what we believe to be the most dynamic discographies of all time in this recurring series. In doing so, we hope to better understand the broader creative context within which our most beloved individual albums exist, while acknowledging the full breadth of their creators’ artistry, career arcs, and overall contributions to the ever-evolving musical landscape.

We hope you enjoy this series and be sure to check here periodically for the latest installments.

THE CURE

My heart brims with affection for many artists and albums, but nothing comes close to my love for The Cure. So often their music evokes other worlds, and yet, when I listen, I’m never more at home.

My passion for the English rock group took hold in the mid ‘90s, years that now fall squarely in the first half of their four-decade-plus career. But, at the time, I felt I arrived too late. I’d missed the firsthand anticipation and delivery of their stunning 1980s output—not to mention Three Imaginary Boys, their 1979 debut. Eventually, I sort of came to grips, realizing my birth-dictated delinquency afforded me its own special luxury—the unique wonder and thrill of tearing into The Cure’s back catalogue.

With nearly 230 original songs, including LP and EP tracks, singles, B-sides as well as soundtrack and compilation contributions, The Cure have conjured intoxicating realms to enliven every feeling—delving into emotions and subject matter far deeper than the generally playful tunes shimmying from the radio. And once I began buying their albums, I devoured them individually and methodically.

One album after the other, I pored over every corner of every song, every liner note, attempting to decipher all latent meaning. And although I’ve never stopped studying, those first years with The Cure were nothing short of life-changing. I was perpetually spellbound by the parade of ever-shifting sounds—post-punk, minimalist, psychedelic, synthy, atmospheric, dreamy, grand, even delectably deranged. And at their heart howled the voice of one Robert Smith, a once-reluctant singer who most assuredly found his calling, intoning cryptic lyrics that tingled the most elemental parts of my being.

For everything The Cure accomplished in the ‘80s alone, they cradle my soul forever. Boundless in creativity and impeccable in execution, the seven albums and 17 singles illustrate the band at their most prolific and progressive. Each album inhabits its own distinct space, and the B-sides are undoubtedly the best of any band of all time.

Seventeen Seconds (1980) opened the decade, charting a dark path that would culminate in an introspective, existential trilogy, with Faith (1981) and Pornography (1982) laying bare the anguishes of the innermost psyche. As an interim means of survival, The Cure then went the other direction, releasing a slew of club-friendly singles before twirling into the hallucinogenic world of The Top (1984)—an unofficial solo album for Smith. Fast on the brink of unraveling, he regained control, rebuilding the band and coming out with the electric The Head on the Door just one year later.

As The Cure’s commercial popularity soared, their scope and sound seemed to grow with it. Longer, lusher and more layered than anything that came before, Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me (1987) and Disintegration (1989) were masterpieces in the moment and have only earned greater reverence with time—with absolutely every component of the group’s collective artistry coalescing to fullest potential.

Much like the moment of levity needed post-Pornography, The Cure dipped back into their dancier side after the gloomy grandeur of Disintegration, delivering the remix album Mixed Up in 1990. Wish (1992) followed shortly thereafter. Another tour de force, with interlocking guitars that build and burst around tales of alienation and heartbreak, The Cure’s ninth studio album showed no signs of abatement.

A four-year transition period between albums allowed me to catch up on what my childhood had caused me to miss, and my 18-year-old self was beyond ready for Wild Mood Swings (1996) when it emerged my freshman year of college. But, reactions were mixed. Miffed by the departures of two longstanding band members, some older fans consider The Cure’s tenth LP the beginning of a downward trend. But many, including myself, reveled in the adventurous ambition of the record. While less conceptual than previous works, it captures a lot of the whimsy and romance that makes the band so alluring. I genuinely adore Wild Mood Swings as a record—it’s also the reason I finally got to see my favorite band live.

Smith has stated that Bloodflowers (2000) established a new trilogy for The Cure, the brooding last act succeeding Pornography (1982) and Disintegration (1989). And although I readily still favor the early-career trio of Seventeen Seconds, Faith and Pornography, in retrospect, I do acknowledge Bloodflowers closed some tacit chapter. The two subsequent albums, The Cure (2004) and 4:13 Dream (2008), enthrall at times, but largely lack the originality that made The Cure so legendary and influential. However, that changes nothing—not then, not ever. I’m only eternally grateful I live in a universe where The Cure exist.

Rayna’s 3 Favorite Cure Albums of All Time:

1. Disintegration (1989)
2. Pornography (1982)
3. Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me (1987)

VISIT The Cure’s Official Store

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