Creativity Quote by Robert Smith

Robert Smith’s genius here is how casually he refuses the fantasy of the “final chapter.” Asked, implicitly, to package The Cure into something neat and narratable, he shrugs off the premise: no grand sunset, no tidy bow, no mythic last album that turns a messy, decades-long band into a commemorative plaque. The line swerves mid-thought - “come to think of it” - like he’s editing the interviewer’s desire in real time. That self-correction is the point: endings are mostly something other people demand.

Then comes the sly concession: “but I can make up an ending if you want me to.” It’s funny, but it’s also a quiet indictment of how pop culture consumes artists. Audiences, labels, and press crave closure because closure sells: farewell tours, legacy narratives, the dopamine hit of completion. Smith frames the ending as a product he could manufacture on request, which demotes it from sacred milestone to customer service.

The subtext is protective. The Cure’s brand has always been mood over message, atmosphere over autobiography. By denying an “end,” Smith keeps the band from being reduced to a single interpretive arc - tragedy, triumph, burnout, redemption. He’s also resisting the moralizing that often comes with longevity: the expectation that aging artists either “know when to stop” or deliver an eternal encore. Smith positions persistence as more honest than ceremony, and he exposes the story-machine behind rock mythology: if you need an ending, he can write you one. Just don’t confuse it for truth.