I have fond memories of The Cure.
It was basically the band I almost exclusively listened to during my entire high school years, the band that got me through breakups and bad grades, the band that taught me how to be self-deprecating and hate myself for it.
From time to time, I scroll through my iPod and find one of my favorite Cure songs — maybe “Close To Me” or “Fascination Street” — and it takes me back to that time in my life when my biggest worry was deciding what to wear the next day.
So when local concert promoter BAMP Project announced it was bringing in the veteran British band that provided the soundtrack to my teen years to Hawaii for the first time every, I didn’t even flinch.
Oh, I was going. And there was nothing stopping me. Not even a very important meeting scheduled for that afternoon.
The concert was tonight at the Blaisdell Arena. It wasn’t a sold-out show, though it sure seemed like it. We had secured seats in the upper deck, right in front of the stage, and without anyone in front of us. It was perfect.
I will say, though, I wasn’t sure about going to a concert. The last one I had been to was before iPhones and Bravo’s “Housewives” series. I mean, it’s been awhile.
The idea of leaving my house at 7 p.m. and planning to stay out until almost midnight — and fighting traffic and looking for parking — was a bit daunting for someone who gets up at 4 a.m. almost every morning.
Still, it was The Cure. It was Robert Smith. I had to go.
And I will say, I have no regrets.
Sure, I felt all of 38 — and I may have been on the younger end of the age spectrum at the concert. (After all, The Cure formed in 1976, the year after I was born.) And yes, the music wasn’t toe-tapping or dance-worthy. (The Cure was EMO before EMO.) But it was The Cure, the most influential band of my life, the reason I used to write poetry and play guitar.
I felt old, but I still stood up and sang along to every song I knew. (I’ll be honest, there were a bunch I had never heard before.) And I screamed out every chance I got. I felt like a teenager again.
I’m not sure where this concert ranks in the shows and live performances I’ve been to over the years. It’s hard to top Jane’s Addiction’s last show at Aloha Tower or the intimate concert by Nirvana at Pink’s Garage. And I can’t forget the first concert I took my kid sister and her friends to, the Aquabats at World Cafe; we got to sing with the band on stage.
But seeing The Cure live, hearing the songs that hurt my heart and wrestled with my emotions, was something almost surreal. (That was only made more so when the band played “Plainsong,” easily my all-time favorite, for the hana hou.)
I was 17 all over again. At least for the night.