16 years later...
Anyone who knows me is aware of my past life of black nail polish, purple Doc Martens and going to see every "alternative" band I possibly could, any time I possibly could. And all of those who knew me before I lost my hearing at 17 remember I was an insanely obsessive fan of The Cure. In the Spring of 1990, when I was a seventh grader, my friends Jen and Angie introduced me to The Cure at a birthday sleepover. They played the album Disintegration and basically changed my life. At that point, I was into Guns and Roses and Skid Row! The Cure sounded like nothing I'd ever heard before, and put me on a completely new path with a new soundtrack.
I began to learn every song in The Cure's already rich discography, read about them, watched 120 Minutes on MTV, eventually had 46 pictures of The Cure on my bedroom walls (to the not quite delight of sister and roommate Bonnie!) Two years after I first heard them, The Cure released Wish and came on tour to America right around my birthday in May. My fabulous mother, knowing how important it was to me, not only allowed me to go to my first concert, but she drove me downtown to the Spectrum, filling her brown station wagon with my likewise obsessed friends - Jeanine, Angie, Sara, Laura and Becky. It was a magical night I never ever forgot, and I held that memory all through the years I could hear no music at all anymore. I did see The Cure two more times in the same week in 1996, at the Spectrum and the Meadowlands. I even slept on the ground outside the Spectrum to get tickets, which was a hysterically fun night to be sure. But I went both those times as a young deaf woman, and tried to lipread Robert Smith through binoculars, which could never be close to the same thing, and while I was glad I went, those nights were tinged with great sadness and loss.
Since my surgery, I listened to many of my old loves and marveled at the miracle of it all. Last autumn, my friend Katie told me that she thought The Cure were coming on tour. I started thinking about how I might want to see my old favorites, about what it could be like. I looked online and found that they'd rescheduled their tour for this spring and all the tickets that had been sold for last year would be valid. On Ebay I discovered two very good seats for only a little more than the original ticket price, and I bought them. What good luck, was it destiny? ;-) So last night, 16 years to the very month I first saw them for my 15th birthday, I saw them for my 31st birthday! I was so excited, but so nervous - would I be able to understand? Would those well-known songs fill my bionic ear, or would it be just a sense of music, a sense of Robert Smith's wailing British vocals? Would it be joy or resigned frustration? I was so glad my beloved friend and fellow nerd Katie was going with me because I could not ask for a better support system, whichever way it went.
It went the way of a dream. It was miraculous, unadulterated euphoria!!! I HEARD those songs, I HEARD what Robert Smith was singing and I sang along. They opened, quite fittingly, with "Open," the first song on 1992's Wish, and transported me back 16 years instantly. Yet I couldn't quite grasp the fact that the song started, I knew what it was, I knew what he was singing! It continued that way all through that amazing night, with me in a state of unbelievable gratitude and awe. Yes, there were a few songs post-Wish that I just don't know yet, and there were a few moments where I couldn't figure out which song it was for a few moments, but the majority I understood, far beyond my wildest expectations. It seemed The Cure knew what I needed, too, because they put on an amazing show, more than three hours of straight music, with barely any talking in between, and with three encores. They reached far far back through their 30 years of music and played some choices that delightfully surprised the heck out of me ("Kyoto Song," "How Beautiful You Are," "Three Imaginary Boys!") They mixed these with every expected crowd pleaser and brought tears to my eyes with choices like the amazing "Pictures of You" and "Boys Don't Cry." They showered me with the gifts of "From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea" and "Jumping Someone Else's Train" and many many more. I almost beat Katie up in my excitement so many times all through the night! My smile was stuck on my face, and I went into little dazes of joy, for long after The Cure left the stage. I am still on a high from this miracle of being a deaf person, who heartbroken, had finally accepted the fact that I'd never hear music again. All I can think is thank you thank you thank you thank you!
I began to learn every song in The Cure's already rich discography, read about them, watched 120 Minutes on MTV, eventually had 46 pictures of The Cure on my bedroom walls (to the not quite delight of sister and roommate Bonnie!) Two years after I first heard them, The Cure released Wish and came on tour to America right around my birthday in May. My fabulous mother, knowing how important it was to me, not only allowed me to go to my first concert, but she drove me downtown to the Spectrum, filling her brown station wagon with my likewise obsessed friends - Jeanine, Angie, Sara, Laura and Becky. It was a magical night I never ever forgot, and I held that memory all through the years I could hear no music at all anymore. I did see The Cure two more times in the same week in 1996, at the Spectrum and the Meadowlands. I even slept on the ground outside the Spectrum to get tickets, which was a hysterically fun night to be sure. But I went both those times as a young deaf woman, and tried to lipread Robert Smith through binoculars, which could never be close to the same thing, and while I was glad I went, those nights were tinged with great sadness and loss.
Since my surgery, I listened to many of my old loves and marveled at the miracle of it all. Last autumn, my friend Katie told me that she thought The Cure were coming on tour. I started thinking about how I might want to see my old favorites, about what it could be like. I looked online and found that they'd rescheduled their tour for this spring and all the tickets that had been sold for last year would be valid. On Ebay I discovered two very good seats for only a little more than the original ticket price, and I bought them. What good luck, was it destiny? ;-) So last night, 16 years to the very month I first saw them for my 15th birthday, I saw them for my 31st birthday! I was so excited, but so nervous - would I be able to understand? Would those well-known songs fill my bionic ear, or would it be just a sense of music, a sense of Robert Smith's wailing British vocals? Would it be joy or resigned frustration? I was so glad my beloved friend and fellow nerd Katie was going with me because I could not ask for a better support system, whichever way it went.
It went the way of a dream. It was miraculous, unadulterated euphoria!!! I HEARD those songs, I HEARD what Robert Smith was singing and I sang along. They opened, quite fittingly, with "Open," the first song on 1992's Wish, and transported me back 16 years instantly. Yet I couldn't quite grasp the fact that the song started, I knew what it was, I knew what he was singing! It continued that way all through that amazing night, with me in a state of unbelievable gratitude and awe. Yes, there were a few songs post-Wish that I just don't know yet, and there were a few moments where I couldn't figure out which song it was for a few moments, but the majority I understood, far beyond my wildest expectations. It seemed The Cure knew what I needed, too, because they put on an amazing show, more than three hours of straight music, with barely any talking in between, and with three encores. They reached far far back through their 30 years of music and played some choices that delightfully surprised the heck out of me ("Kyoto Song," "How Beautiful You Are," "Three Imaginary Boys!") They mixed these with every expected crowd pleaser and brought tears to my eyes with choices like the amazing "Pictures of You" and "Boys Don't Cry." They showered me with the gifts of "From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea" and "Jumping Someone Else's Train" and many many more. I almost beat Katie up in my excitement so many times all through the night! My smile was stuck on my face, and I went into little dazes of joy, for long after The Cure left the stage. I am still on a high from this miracle of being a deaf person, who heartbroken, had finally accepted the fact that I'd never hear music again. All I can think is thank you thank you thank you thank you!