2 stars
It all looks good on paper: revered, influential British band play rare headline mega-über-slot at major festival, and then release live album. When the band in question is The Cure, however, surely one of the most dynamic, scene-sweeping bands this country has ever produced, and said mega-über-slot takes place at Bestival, which, as its name would suggest, is arguably the best festival the UK currently has to offer, the bar is raised somewhat. Being a huge Cure fan and one of the unlucky few to have missed the show, I awaited Bestival Live 2011 with great anticipation.
What a shame, then, that the band’s seemingly lauded performance doesn’t manage to translate to record. Despite shrewd setlist choices and the palpable excitement of the crowd, the material comes across as more than a little flaccid when blind to the surrounding atmosphere. This isn’t down to frontman Robert Smith’s vocals – as the only real constant in the band’s 35-odd year history he strives, largely successfully, to perform with the same gusto and beauty of old, and his voice has aged excellently – but rather the band around him, and the music behind him, which sounds lumbering and tired.
As is perhaps to be expected from a live album, the nuances and accents of such classics as Lovesong and Boys Don’t Cry are lost or ignored, with moments here feel oddly and unfairly re-shaped, by dint of lacklustre mixing, a general musical slackening or an unsettling lack of chemistry between the band’s members. The result is at times disappointing – think Morrissey performing with a Smiths cover band –
however, if anything, Bestival Live 2011 does serve to remind us of the sheer weight of The Cure’s musical legacy.
“It’s a long day, but, we’re here, and it fits.” Thus spake Robert Smith, in his pre-amble to Friday I’m in Love, and I’m inclined to agree – it fits, but only in the way your Mum manages to fit into a
pair of her unearthed 80’s skinny jeans; there’s no denying that the button’s fastened, but you can’t help but notice the muffin-top.
