Where their Wish follow-up was simply no good, the turn of the century proved promising for The Cure. Their first album of the twenty-first century, Bloodflowers, is a nine-track titan. It’s a statement of intent for the decade ahead, which the Robert Smith-fronted group would not follow through. Bloodflowers’ rollout should have been handled better. No singles to promote this album. Smith did not permit it because of how little had been done to market Galore by the label. Great work is made despite this. Bloodflowers is arguably the strongest of The Cure’s work since Disintegration or Pornography. Both albums offered a seismic shift in the studio for the band, but also a satisfying sound which would define The Cure as they searched for their next shot of perfection. This is a magnificent effort, of the same quality to those very best releases. Much of that comes from the mood and tone, but keep an ear out for some essential lyrics from Smith.
Length is the problem Smith dealt with on each of these songs. It may be tough digging into the eleven-minute epic Watching Me Fall, but the simpler contrasts of black eyes and white bedsheets give the band a chance to cut straight into the alternative rock and gothic tones. It works exceptionally well. Those with the patience to hear the screeches and pangs of genre essentials are catered to, while those wanting to hear The Cure build as a band of instrumental interest are in luck. Smith’s lyrics may hit all the obvious spots, but there is no denying the mood-setting sensitivity, the spark of light in the darkness, made by songs like Where the Birds Always Sing. This isn’t just a romp through gothic expectations, though. There are some moments of innovation to be found. A lighter touch on Maybe Someday makes all the difference, with a few instrumental spots of interest backing those inevitably strong lyrics.
Bloodflowers is steady, and that may be why it’s a relatively forgotten release. It does not have the studio pains Pornography had or the standout, hit inevitability of songs from Wish. What Bloodflowers is for The Cure is the chance to make a satisfying album, a project which relies on the strength of the songs around it, the story developing across these nine songs. In isolation, they are far weaker. There Is No If has a chart-adjacent appeal to it, the ties between two lovers are a bit too sincere, but it works all the same, because of the context Bloodflowers presents. Moody soundscapes are still frequent enough here, though, that they rebuild the deeper meaning of the album. The Loudest Sound is the perfect storm of those instrumental implementations, the slower tempo and the repetition from Smith making all the difference.
39 gives the album its emotional strength. Smith deals in some simpler topics and resolutions here, but it works all the same. The fire is not burning as strongly, he says as much on the penultimate track from Bloodflowers, and in that, he and the band find a new strength. It’s a strong release because its story is contained well and told better. It’s an opportunity to hear the band at a standard they always wish to hit. The Cure brings about a truly consistent and often unnerving set of songs here. There may be points of repetition to the theme, and definitely to the lyrics, but they had been chipping away at gothic rock for so long at this point that repetition was inevitable. You can hear that on the title track, but thanks to sharp instrumental stylishness, The Cure gets away with a very strong and assured piece of work.
