Record Rack

Nothing like a sense of finality to add weight to an aesthetic built on dissipation, atrophy and ennui, all set to elegiacally sweeping music. So with Robert Smith indicating that he plans to break up the Cure after more than 20 years of wallowing in amorphous despair--and despite the “cry wolf” syndrome that’s long made his gloom easy to dismiss--he here has the benefit of sounding like he means it.

Sure, he protesteth too much and too hammily on such overwrought exit lines as “The fire’s almost out . . . there’s nothing left to burn” in the song “39” and, “The time always comes to say goodbye . . . and these flowers will always die” on the closing title track. But there is an underlying elegance to the proceedings, courtesy the muted tone of the familiar musical formula involving languid instrumental introductions and leisurely pacing, with songs averaging six-plus minutes.

Lacking is Smith’s knack for a relatively jaunty pop ditty a la “Friday I’m in Love,” though the whiff of hope in “Maybe Someday” and the over-the-rainbow-ism of “Where the Birds Always Sing” (perfect for Liza?) adds at least some buoyancy. But overall, “Bloodflowers”--due in stores Tuesday and completing a trilogy with 1982’s “Pornography” and 1989’s “Disintegration”--is about wrapping up, not moving on. The Cure plays the Palace Feb. 19.

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Albums are rated on a scale of one star (poor), two stars (fair), three stars (good) and four stars (excellent). The albums are already released unless otherwise noted.