It was 20th July 1989. At seventeen I was dressed appropriately in a biker’s leather atop a miniature-flower laden black shirt, skin-tight black jeans with laces up each side, scuffed-up basketball boots and a mop of dishevelled dark hair, short at the back, long fringe. I took a bus to Birmingham with some friends. It was The Cure’s Disintegration Tour at the NEC. They opened, as the album does, with Plainsong, followed by Pictures of You. It was awesome. Little was I to know at the time that Disintegration eventually defined them as a band. No punk, no pop, pure goth in Smith’s genre-leading interpretation.Read More
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