The Cure - Pornography

Fiction

May 4th, 1982.

Drenched in damp production - reverb-heavy, wet washed - and home to the signature sullen Robert Smith outlook, Pornography packs quite the Gothic gut punch.

One Hundred Years opens up the album with what may just be the quintessential Gothic Rock track. Thoughts of the end, both personally and romantically, visions of impending doom and soundscapes akin to mental decay paint pictures of shadow strewn bedroom walls and strobe lit hallways. Sound effects and a spacious sense of close proximity make Pornography an intimate experience. Not in the nice sense, however. Everything feels like it's closing in on the listener. Edging closer to complete submersion. What was once a distant concern has become a bitingly proximal problem.

Pornography is the musical equivalent of walking home in the rain after working a 12 hour shift for the man. Soaked to the bone, domestic drudgery takes yet another prisoner. Perennial grey engulfs. If you're looking to remove the warmth from your surrounding area, play this. It doesn't have an ounce of niceness to its existence. It's nothing short of chilling.

Smith and co. must have been in glacial head spaces at the time of recording this album. Everything oozes a distant, disconnected feel. It really is doom and gloom distilled down into vibrations.

Notable Tracks: One Hundred Years

May 4th, 1982.