There are artists who pass through our lives, and there are artists who become part of our lives. For me, The Cure has always been the latter… and your presence within that universe shaped something deep, lasting, and essential in me.
Growing up in México City, The Cure was not just a band playing through our speakers; it was a companion during moments of solitude, rebellion, tenderness, and becoming. Their albums felt like secret letters written for those of us who felt too much, dreamed too big, and lived somewhere between shadow and light.
The music traveled across borders, languages, and realities and somehow always found its way straight to the heart.
Your guitar work carried emotion without needing translation. It was atmospheric, melancholic, hopeful, and raw all at once. In the concerts, that energy became almost ceremonial crowds united in feeling, voices singing lyrics that had already lived inside us for years. Those nights were not just shows; they were rites of passage. Moments when time paused, and the world made sense for a while.
The Cure’s lyrics gave shape to feelings I didn’t yet have words for. They taught me that sensitivity is strength, that darkness can be beautiful, and that vulnerability can be powerful. That vibe (that unmistakable aura) followed me through adolescence, adulthood, heartbreak, love, and creative growth. It influenced how I see art, how I feel music, how I understand emotion.
Your magic was part of that journey. Part of the soundscape of my life. Part of the reason those songs still feel alive decades later.
Thank you for the music.
Thank you for the atmosphere.
Thank you for the memories, the echoes, the feelings that never fade.
You may have left this plane, but your sound continues to vibrate through records, through stages remembered, through hearts like mine that were forever changed.
Fly high, Perry.
Your magic lives on.
