The 1982 Cure album Robert Smith made during his darkest period: “Pretty monstrous”
Following the release of their 1979 debut album, The Cure entered a period of continuous metamorphosis, giving birth to three vastly different albums: 1980’s Seventeen Seconds, 1981’s Faith and 1982’s Pornography.
After a promising start, The Cure decided to separate themselves from the warped-pop sensibilities of their debut, with frontman Robert Smith disowning his evident skill for pop songwriting in favour of increasingly darker material.
To the casual listener, all of this must have seemed rather distressing. The Cure had promised something long-cherished in British music: genuinely novel pop once accessible and edgy. Then came 1981’s Faith, which, apart from the single ‘Primary’, seemed to confirm The Cure’s desire to torture their listeners with unceasing solemnity. It was followed a year later by Pornography, an album Robert Smith admits was rather “odd” in retrospect.
“Seventeen Seconds was the most personal record that we’ve ever done, strangely enough,” Smith told Spin back in 2019. Pornography, on the other hand, was “just a very odd record that was made by a very odd group”.
Shedding light on the background to the album’s creation, Smith confessed: “I don’t think I would recognise myself around that time. I was undergoing a lot of mental stress. But it had nothing to do with the group, it just had to to do with what I was like, my age and things. I think I got to my worst round about Pornography. Looking back and getting other people’s opinions of what went on, I was a pretty monstrous sort of person at that time.”
Exhausted and deeply depressed, Smith decided to use Pornography as a way of distracting himself from increasingly suicidal thoughts. During the album’s recording sessions, drug use was rampant, with the band living off LSD and alcohol and sleeping in the office of their record label to save money. The idea was to create what Smith would later describe as the ultimate “fuck off” record, a self-destructive masterpiece that would allow Smith to walk away guilt-free. Ultimately, the frontman’s obnoxious behaviour and abhorrent narcissism wrecked the group’s vision for the album and left Smith without friends or allies.
The aftermath was equally dramatic. Following the album’s release, The Cure effectively imploded, with bassist Simon Gallup departing after tensions boiled over during the accompanying tour. For a time, it appeared that Pornography might not only mark the end of the band’s darkest creative period but the end of The Cure itself.
While Pornography was dismissed by most contemporary critics, a good few decades of distance have greatly improved its listenability. Tracks like ‘Short Term Effect’, though knowingly nihilistic, feature some of the most immersive textures of any recording before My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless. Sure, it’s a little impenetrable and uneven, but what Pornography lacks in accessibility, it more than makes up for in mood. A chaotic swirl of self-loathing and intoxicating soundscapes, Pornography is certainly “odd” but no less engaging for it.
In hindsight, the record has become one of the defining statements of gothic rock. Its dense production, suffocating atmosphere and emotional extremity would go on to influence generations of alternative musicians, proving that its uncompromising vision resonated far more deeply than many critics initially recognised.
Perhaps the greatest testament to Pornography is that Robert Smith never tried to make another album like it. Having pushed himself to an emotional breaking point, he eventually rediscovered his gift for melody and reinvention, steering The Cure back towards brighter territory without abandoning the darkness that had become part of their identity. As unsettling as it remains, Pornography endures as the sound of a band surviving its own self-destruction.
