The Moon and St. Robert

Did you see the moon this evening?

I caught a glimpse of it as it rose over the city at about 7 p.m., and it reminded me of a spring night nearly 20 years ago when I sat in a field watching a lunar eclipse, boom box on the ground beside me, listening to an album that's become a classic: The Cure's 1989 release Disintegration.

It amazes me that I haven't written about this 12-track masterpiece before (well, in all fairness, the vinyl version does contain one less track than the CD does), because it's been so much a part of my life for 18 years. I aver that Robert Smith and gang never did anything better before or since.

Disintegration was a breakthrough album for the Cure, and when you listen to it today, you sort of wonder why. It didn't have the jaunty hits like its predecessor, 1987's brilliant Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me (the first Cure album I ever heard), and it's not as good a pop album as 1985's The Head on the Door.

Instead, Disintegration is long, moody, sustained, gorgeous, multi-layered, complex and infinitely satisfying. As an adult I can liken it to a good Burgundy or Pinot Noir. As a 20-year old, I just thought it was life-changing, yet I wasn't sure exactly how.

That night when I listened to it, watching the moon slowly get eaten away, I felt a connection to Disintegration that I hadn't felt to many albums before. The connection went beyond that of any "coolness factor," and beyond the fact that I loved the Cure, and this was a new Cure album, so I'd better love it.

The connection was felt instantly when I heard the crashing, breaking glass sound of the opener, "Plainsong." It remains my favorite Cure song, and when I heard it live, at Giants Stadium in New Jersey a few months later, I was so moved I wept.

Disintegration has other gems on it--like "Pictures of You," which I listened to recently with my friend Bill and realized just how amazing it still is; the title track, which is as circular in form and execution as any rock song ever is or was; and the luxurious and loooooong (9.5 minutes) "The Same Deep Water as You." As that song slowly wound down that first night I heard it, the moon went dark and I lay there, kinda freaked out but loving it.

The album has become so much those songs that I forget about its hits--"Fascination Street," "Lullaby" and, of course, "Love Song," the shortest and most accessible cut on the album. It's so pretty and sweet that one would think it wouldn't fit on Disintegration. But it does, and beautifully.

I can't say enough good stuff about this record, can you tell? If you haven't heard it in its entirety, stop reading this instant and get your hands on it somehow. It's a timeless piece of 1980s alternative heaven. And it may freak you out, but you'll love it.