Faith, for all its dark, dreamy power, was almost a gentle cakewalk compared to the black howl of Pornography, the conclusion of the earliest existence of the Cure and one of the most overwhelming releases ever described as rock and roll, however widely defined. Nearly every song is a maxed-to-the-red overload of walls of feedback, rampaging drums and deep bass, the relative moments of calm like “Siamese Twins” almost shocking in comparison. From the roar of “One Hundred Years” to the building extremity of the title track, it’s a scream from the edge.