It was never supposed to be a masterpiece. Honestly, it barely felt like a The Cure song when it first hit the airwaves in 1983. Robert Smith, the king of gloom and the man who gave us the crushing existential dread of Pornography, was suddenly... purring? He was snapping his fingers to a double bass? It felt like a prank.
Actually, it kind of was.
If you look at the history of The Love Cats by The Cure, you aren't looking at a band trying to craft a radio-friendly pop hit to save their careers. You're looking at a group of guys who were essentially falling apart, recorded a track while supposedly "very drunk," and accidentally stumbled into the Top 10. It’s one of those weird moments in music history where the artist tried to be throwaway, and the world decided it was essential.
The Post-Pornography Identity Crisis
To understand why this song is so weird, you have to remember where Robert Smith was at in 1982. The band had just finished the "Fourteen Explicit Moments" tour. It was a nightmare. Simon Gallup and Robert had a physical fight in a club, the atmosphere was thick with drugs and depression, and the band basically ceased to exist. Robert was playing guitar for Siouxsie and the Banshees, feeling like a side character in someone else's story.
He wanted to kill the "Goth" image. He hated being the poster boy for misery.
So, he did the most radical thing he could think of: he wrote a pop song. The Love Cats by The Cure wasn't just a departure; it was a middle finger to the expectation that he should always be shrouded in cobwebs and dry ice. He teamed up with Lol Tolhurst, who had moved from drums to keyboards, and they headed to Paris.
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Studio Chaos and the Jazz Influence
The recording sessions at Studio des Dames were, by all accounts, a total mess. Robert has famously described the sessions as being fueled by massive amounts of alcohol. He wanted something "vaguely jazzy," influenced by the animated film The Aristocats. Think about that. The man who wrote "One Hundred Years" was now taking cues from Disney.
The secret sauce of the track is the double bass. Phil Thornalley played it, and that upright, woody thumping gave the song its "jazz-cat" swing. It’s playful. It’s light. It’s almost vaudevillian. When Robert does those little "hiss" sounds and the "ba-ba-ba" vocal runs, he's mocking the very idea of being a serious rock star.
But here’s the thing about Robert Smith: he’s too good of a songwriter to actually write a bad song, even when he’s trying to be silly. The melody is airtight. The rhythm is infectious. You can't listen to it without moving your feet, which was a first for most Cure fans at the time.
That Music Video: Pianos and Taxidermy
You can’t talk about The Love Cats by The Cure without mentioning the video directed by Tim Pope. It was the start of a legendary partnership. They filmed it in an old house in Hampstead that was supposedly for sale. They didn't have a permit. They just went in and started filming.
There’s a real sense of amateurism that makes it perfect. You see the band members in oversized suits, Robert looking like he’s having the time of his life, and an abundance of stuffed cats. It solidified the "New" Cure—a band that could be surreal, funny, and colorful without losing their edge. It was the first time the public saw Robert Smith's "bedhead" look fully formed and used for comedic effect rather than just looking like he’d spent a week in a graveyard.
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Why the Fans (Eventually) Loved It
At first, the hardcore fans were confused. This wasn't the "Forest" band. But The Love Cats by The Cure bridged a gap. It proved that the "alternative" scene didn't have to be a monochrome prison. It opened the door for The Head on the Door and Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me. Without the success of this single, we probably don't get "Lullaby" or "Friday I'm in Love."
It showed that Robert Smith was a pop polymath.
Debunking the "Selling Out" Myth
Some critics at the time called it a sell-out. That’s a bit of a stretch. If you look at the lyrics, they're still pretty weird. "Into the sea, you and me / All these years and no one heard," isn't exactly "Sugar, Sugar." There’s a frantic, slightly claustrophobic energy beneath the jazz exterior. It's a pop song written by someone who views pop music through a cracked lens.
The Technical Evolution
Musically, the song moved the band away from the drum-machine-heavy sound they’d been experimenting with on Japanese Whispers. It introduced a more organic, albeit eccentric, instrumental palette. The use of real brass and that iconic piano hook gave them a sophisticated "sophisti-pop" edge that was trending in the UK at the time, but they made it weirder than anything ABC or Spandau Ballet were doing.
Impact on the Charts
The song hit number 7 in the UK. It was their first Top 10 hit. Suddenly, The Cure were Pop Stars. Robert Smith was on Top of the Pops, looking slightly bemused by the whole situation. It’s funny to think that a song he basically considered a joke became the foundation of his commercial empire.
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It also performed incredibly well in Australia, hitting the Top 10 there too. The world was ready for a version of The Cure that didn't make them want to stare at a wall in a dark room.
The Legacy of the Purr
Even decades later, The Love Cats by The Cure remains a staple of their live sets. It’s the moment in the show where the tension finally breaks. People who spent the last two hours weeping to Disintegration tracks suddenly start dancing like lunatics.
It represents the duality of the band. You can be the person who writes "Pictures of You," and you can also be the person who writes a song about being a cat. Neither one is "fake." They are both sides of Robert Smith’s incredibly complex creative brain.
Key Takeaways for Music Fans
- Embrace the pivot. If you're an artist, don't be afraid to do the opposite of what people expect. Sometimes your "joke" project is your biggest breakthrough.
- Visuals matter. The Tim Pope video defined the band's aesthetic for the next decade. Never underestimate the power of a well-placed stuffed animal.
- The "Pop" Label isn't a death sentence. You can write catchy music without losing your artistic soul. Robert Smith proved that you can play the game and still be an outsider.
Next Steps for New Listeners
If this song is your gateway into the band, don't stop here. Your next move should be listening to the rest of the Japanese Whispers compilation. It captures that transition period where they were moving from post-punk into weirdo-pop. After that, jump straight into The Head on the Door. It’s the logical conclusion of the path that started with those drunken nights in Paris.
Grab a pair of decent headphones. Pay attention to that bass line. It’s still one of the best things to ever happen to 80s radio.