KEY POINTS:
Robert Smith, the leader and only constant in The Cure since the band formed in Britain in 1976, had his first tab of LSD while on tour in New Zealand in 1980. The Cure smashed up an Auckland hotel room while they were here too.
When they play
Auckland's Vector Arena on August 14, one suspects Smith will have mellowed during the intervening 30 years. Those two early incidents, and other deviant behaviour of the musical and non-musical variety, are revealed in Never Enough - The Story of The Cure, the meandering soap opera of one of modern music's most enduring bands.
The Cure story has it all: drugs, band break-ups, bullying, lawsuits, superstardom, and then of course the diverse musical tangents Smith has taken the band along over the years.
Author Jeff Apter is thorough, be he outlining Smith's control-freak tendencies; tracking the bands progression from post-punk amateurs to their drugged-up gothic period that culminated in the eternally dour Pornography album from 1982; and on to the light-hearted pop of Let's Go To Bed. In typical dismissive Smith fashion, he labels that track a demented and calculated song he wrote as a reaction to people's presumption he was depressing and pessimistic.
However, sometimes Apter is annoyingly thorough. He inserts mini biographies of bands like Joy Division and the Buzzcocks when it's not necessary and he repeats things, such as how band co-founder Laurence Lol Tolhurst was the band's whipping boy.
Those gripes aside, Apter's interviews with past band members and The Cure contemporaries, of which there are many, offer a juicy look at the turbulent times in The Cure's history. Smith comes across as not the dark, cuddly goth idol many fans probably think he is.
The court case between Tolhurst and The Cure, over unfair division of recording profits, is also well documented. In short, Tolhurst, an alcoholic who left the band in 1992, lost the case. However, it's the former Cure drummer and keyboardist who comes off best from Never Enough. He was often maligned, yet Apter's interviews with him reveal a likeable chap who remembers his time in The Cure mostly with fondness.
It's Tolhurst who provides the most intriguing insight into the history of this band.
The Cure have cocaine, fisticuffs and longevity in common with Iggy Pop but it's fair to say the punk pioneers life is far more dangerous than anything the Brits got up to.
There's seemingly not much more to know about Pop. We've heard and read it all. Well, all the wild and reckless stories anyway. And many of these like when Iggy took on a biker gang in Detroit, or the time he did number twos on stage, or his legendary penis are retold here.
But Paul Trynka's biography looks beyond those stories to details such as Pop's golfing prowess; his battle with drug abuse; his treatment for bipolar disorder; and the real story behind the creation of the first three classic Stooges albums, The Stooges, Fun House and Raw Power.
Add to this his sexual shenanigans, his relationships with people like David Bowie and Nico, from Velvet Underground, and his unhinged live performances, and Pop has had one of the most colourful yet troubled lives of any musician of our time.
Trynka is a fan of Pop but not a Stooges sycophant. Not only does he point out that Pop could be a nasty bit of work at times, he's honest about his many dodgy albums like Instinct (dull corporate rock).
Despite the attention to detail music geeks love, the story of one of music's few great wild men remains compelling.
Both these books are good reads even for non-fans. The gothic, drug-fuelled soap opera of The Cure is intriguing and Iggy's crazy life makes Open Up and Bleed a ripping good yarn. One things for sure, both are recommended for music fans and depending on who you're into, they are essential reading for Iggy and The Cure devotees.
* Scott Kara is a feature writer for the Herald's TimeOut magazine.
