The anticipation surrounding The Cure’s return to Ireland has been as intense as it has been unexpected, with bands, media and fans alike greeting it as something approaching a second coming. Couple this with a new album that marks a return to their heyday form and by rights this headline slot should have been the stuff of legend. All the more surprising, then, that the band misjudge the whole thing in quite such spectacular fashion. Arriving more with a whimper than a bang, the first forty five minutes is – a lumpen ‘Fascination Street’ aside – devoted solely to material that sparks recognition in no-one but the most hardcore fan.
Unsurprisingly, the whole things falls flat. While a band like the Scissor Sisters have had the masses partying even in the harshest of conditions, each Cure number is greeted at first with muted cheers and then the sight of people leaving in droves. Those of us contractually obliged to stay can only watch with envy, as we also do at the other stages in the arena where people – and get this, the bands – seem to actually be enjoying themselves.
Only the hits can possibly save the day and they duly arrive in one chunk, but even the likes of ‘Lovesong’, ‘In Between Days’ and ‘Pictures Of You’ cannot raise the spirit, not when played in such disinterested fashion. The moment has been lost and no-one involved either on stage or off it seems particularly bothered to try and get it back. It all limps on late into the night, the sound of disappointment drifting across the site as the majority trudge wearily back to cars and tents. Who knows when they’ll pass this way again but, to be honest, you can’t think many people will be losing a lot of sleep over the thought.

[picture by Roger Woolman]