Until I was fourteen years old, my definition of a good band was a hot bloke singing songs about lurve. Nik Kershaw, Simon Le Bon, Boy George, Morten Harket, Matt Goss. (Matt Goss?! What can I say, we all have our pasts). Then in the summer of 1991, I went on holiday to Crete and Clare Horwood kindly copied me some cassettes for my Walkman. One
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Never owned an album by them either, but really liked their b-sides collection. Shame if they're not around any more - is this not like the endless last ever Cure gigs then?
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I think this might actually be it. There really was an air of finality to it that wasn't at the last three last ever gigs. But I could be wrong. I wouldn't be at all sad if I was.
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Good times.
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To let you know your wishlist has no address so you need to select one or no one can buy you a gift. Regards,
Diana
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