L.A. Times: October 31, 1997

It's easy to dismiss the Cure as an 80's leftover band that just won't go away. After all, it's been 20 years since the group was spawned in England's late '70's Goth rock scene. The far eerier, gloomier and more subversive groups that have sprung up since-from gothic Australians Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds, to shock-rockers Marilyn Manson- make the Cure seem almost cute by comparison.

But in a rare small-venue show at the Hollywood American Legion Hall on Tuesday, the Cure underscored the simple fact that it has left a vast alternative-music legacy. The band's new album is a collection of its singles from the past decade, and on Tuesday the group dipped even further into the past, composing the entire two-hour set from its '80's hits and gearing it toward longtime fans.

The most striking aspect of the show was the sheer quantity of Cure hits. Singer-songwriter Robert Smith, peering coyly at the audience from beneath his tademark puff of hair, dove into a slew of familiar-and now nostalgic- songs. Most focused on existential themes (Killing an Arab") and love in the midst of bohemian angst (Friday I'm in Love", Let's Go to Bed," Just Like Heaven").

But one of the problems that the band has battled in its effort to remain relevant in the 90's also became obvious: Smith was originally able to make the leap into rock's mainstream with a childlike manner that added an oddly endearing edge to the band's darker musings. At 40, it's a tough act to pull off with an audience beyond the fervent core cult of older fans.

On Tuesday, Smith could get away with it mainly because the Cure has always been a singles band and he was delivering its strongest material. In the end, the Cure's songs about desire as a life raft in a sea of insecurity still resonate, even if they do feel entirely tied to another era.

-Sara Scribner