The Cure released "Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me" in the summer of 1987, a sprawling double album that spanned a gamut of styles ranging from dizzying pop thrills to manic Goth anthems that stand among the band's best work. The opening line "Kiss me, kiss me, kiss me, your tongue's like poison..." perfectly captures the spirit of the album, the dichotomy that separates the sheer pop perfection of Why Can't I be You? and Just like Heaven from the dark brooding intensity of Icing Sugar and The Snakepit. It's an amazing album that rightfully saw the band jump from mid-level alternative cult status to stadium filling MTV stars, and while it's not my favorite Cure release ("Pornography" and "Disintegration" regularly compete in my head for that title...), it will always hold a special place in my heart as the Kissing Tour was the first time that I ever saw The Cure live.
My friend Dave and I were big fans of The Cure, so we both got pretty excited when CFNY announced a show at CNE Grandstand, but along with that excitement there was also a certain amount of nerves, because it meant that we would have to get tickets first. This was long before the internet was a thing, so there were only two options to get tickets, either calling in by phone or lining up at an outlet. At the time calling in was distinctly impractical, there was a very real probability you could get a repetitive stress injury from repeatedly dialing your parent's rotary phone trying to get through to buy tickets, so we decided that lining up at an outlet was the best way to go. Plus there was a certain cache to lining up for a concert, it was an opportunity to hang with like-minded people who were all into the same music that we were, and hanging around with people that like the same music is always cool.
If memory serves me correctly, tickets went on sale at the end of June around exam time. I'm pretty sure that Dave had a test that morning, so I went and lined up on my own. Admittedly I wasn't so hard-core that I lined up a week in advance to buy tickets like other people I know, I really couldn't get into the idea of camping out in a sleeping bag for a week (I loath camping), and most malls with ticket outlets made a point of keeping line ups out back by the trash compactors for fear that desperate concert-goers might scare away shoppers. The combined threat of camping plus trash compactors was enough to keep me at bay for a while, but the day that tickets went on sale I made sure to get up at dawn and ride the bus out to the mall so I could line up with all the bleary-eyed campers who smelled vaguely of garbage. My plan paid off and I was sixth in line, so, y'know, I got to hang with other fans for a few hours talking about Cure B-sides, I got decent tickets to the show, AND I didn't smell nearly as bad as everybody else. Win Win Win for Team Rik and Dave!
As is typically the case, the months between getting tickets and actually seeing The Cure dragged on and on and on and on, but our interest in the show was maintained by Lee Carter, the British radio host of Live in London, a show that was broadcast every Thursday evening on CFNY. Lee Carter
was very much in the know about music, most importantly about the music
that I wanted to know about, and I listened every week to his soothing
British accent telling me about the latest single by Depeche Mode or new
music from Siouxsie and the Banshees or, y'know, whatever. And over the months leading up to the show, he talked at great length about the release of "Kiss
Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me" and the supporting tour which had already been
winding it's way through Europe. Thanks to Lee Carter our excitement was maintained over the weeks leading up to the show with news items about how the band were only playing songs from the new album on
this tour, about how they were playing the whole album, and how they had a new keyboard player with them to fill out their sound. Not a lot of details, but enough that it kept our anticipation going through the summer until August 1st finally came and Dave and I were headed to the show. Along the way to the Grandstand we joked about worst case scenarios knowing that they were only playing songs from a select portion of their catalog, coming to the conclusion that the worst thing that could happen would be that the band would just play Catch over and over for two hours (Catch is undoubtedly the worst Cure song ever), or even better (worse?) an extended two hour long version of Descent (arguably the second worst Cure song ever).
We arrived at the Grandstand about five minutes before the show started, and just as we got to our seats (low down in the stands on the right side), a video started to play across a white screen that obscured the stage, building on the visual theme of the album with shots of eyes and mouths, and mouths and eyes, and mouths in eyes, and eyes in mouths, and mouths, and eyes, and mouths and eyes. The images started moving faster, mouth, eye, mouth, eye, mouth, mouth, eye in mouth, eye, mouth in eye, mouth, eye, eye, eye, mouth, mouthmoutheyemouthmoutheyemoutheye, and then with a drawn out cry of "Kisssssssss meeeeeeeee!" the curtain fell to reveal the band on stage playing the opening notes of The Kiss and it was electrifying. Bathed in a mixture of orange lights and shadows they played the hell out of that song, a grinding wall of sound that was both inspiring and terrifying, a mind-blowing performance that was well worth the price of the ticket by itself. I would have been content and satisfied if that was the only song that they played that night, but when it was done they kept going! After The Kiss, the band switched up the order of the album a little bit, opting to play Torture next rather than the dreaded Catch, and following that with the spiraling fuzz of All I Want and surprising the audience with A Japanese Dream, the brilliant bass driven B-side from the Why Can't I be You? single. And after reaching such lofty and impressive heights they finally played Catch and I opted to go to the bathroom so I wouldn't have to miss any of the other songs that I really wanted to hear.
As expected, the show progressed through the "Kiss Me..." album, with great versions of Just Like Heaven, Hot Hot Hot!!!, Like Cockatoos, and it was all quite awesome. About halfway through the set they made a liar out of Lee Carter by playing a great version of The Walk, all shivery synths and percolating drums. A few more songs from "Kiss Me..." followed, and then a wave of dry ice filled the entire stage, a beautiful soupy fog slowly creeping across the floor seats and into the stands during the opening bars of A Forest. I've come to learn that A Forest is always a highlight in The Cure's set, often building on the original album version of the song with some nice improvised jams. The performance that night in Toronto was no exception, with the band playing an especially awesome and drawn out rendition...
What else? I think "A Forest" was the end of the set proper though I'll defer to Dave if he thinks otherwise, and then they dug into the back catalog to play a couple of encores. Close to Me had some fish videos which were pretty appropriate, they played the "Three Imaginary Boys" mini set that often closes their shows, and they saved Why Can't I be You? for the last song of the evening.
All in all, it was a particularly great opportunity to see one of my favorite bands for the very first time, even if they did play Catch. Since that night I've gone to about twenty shows by The Cure, and while I've seen them do far better gigs than this one (and admittedly a few that were far worse), in many ways this will always be the most special in my mind because it was the first time that I ever saw them. Much like that first Depeche Mode show I went to the year before, seeing The Cure in 1987 helped me develop a particular appreciation for live music and dry ice that stays with me to this day...
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