Bloodflowers — The Cure

By Darby Sawchuk

Haunting and dark, with the conspicuous abscence of a fluffy single, the Cure’s Bloodflowers, beginning to end, throws itself into lead vocalist/songwriter Robert Smith’s melancholy side.

Soft, brooding and gripping melodies lead to inevitable, but restrained emotional bursts then drift back into gentler pop sounds. These lengthy songs prolong the experience at the bottom of Smith’s heart. Capturing the morose sentiment of early Cure such as "Lullaby," every song avoids the "Friday I’m in Love" trap.

Warm but mournful guitars, distant keyboards and textured production create a detailed and appropriate backdrop for the foreground’s laments. Without much variation in pace or theme, Bloodflowers huddles in its dark corner, afraid to creep into the light for its length.

Replete with the words and images of melodrama, Bloodflowers may sometimes pull too tightly on the heartstrings, but its overall effect is that you are drawn into Smith’s helplessness and sadness.