For the record, what P-Fork had to say about the KMKMKM reissue:
"But then there's Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me (1987), the place where every one of these things comes together. This band is best remembered for Disintegration, yes-- it's the kind of epic, single-minded "statement" that asks to be put up on pedestals. Thing is, you don't get the kind of teenage-bedroom devotion this band got by making epic, single-minded statements. In order to get people to dress like you-- to make a whole world out of your music-- you have to offer them a whole world, one that encompasses all of their moods, every waking moment of their days.
The 18 tracks of Kiss Me's double-LP do exactly that. Every major mode of the Cure is here, and sounding better than ever, each one a realm of its own. There's grand, tormented wailing ("The Kiss", "Fight") next to tender, sunny numbers ("Catch"). There are creepy-crawly Orientalist nightmares ("The Snake Pit", "If Only Tonight We Could Sleep") and slow, sparkling romances ("One More Time"). There are bitter shouts ("Shiver and Shake"), all-pop numbers ("Just Like Heaven"), and complex intersections between the two ("Hot Hot Hot", "Why Can't I Be You?"). Smith's lyrics even find, among the usual animals and anguish, a set of linchpin images that reflect in each of those directions. There is a mouth on the cover, and the songs are full of devouring-- both the devouring mouths of desire and the fear of being consumed. Christmas gets to evoke both gaudy colors and sad nostalgia. There's the deep, dark water that would soon be all over Disintegration, and there's an endless romantic push and pull: someone so perfect that Smith asks "Why can't I be you?" and someone else so perfect that Smith asks, "You want to know why I hate you?" Some of these songs play out mixed-up emotions-- weird crossovers of depression and joy, love and loathing, anger and resignation-- that we barely have names for. Bitter torture and giddy excitement and desire, desire, desire: They all come together into one almost maniacally impassioned thing.
This is the world of the raccoon-eyed, mumbling, moping, endlessly sensitive late-80s Cure fan in one gorgeous, totally immersive package, and it's one of the most convincing, emotionally whole, and individual albums of the decade-- an entire imagined land, complete with sounds, visions, and styles, huge on romance and drama. If you were only ever to buy one Cure album, most people would point you to that landmark Disintegration, and there's every chance you'd be amazed by it. But for the whole breadth of the Cure-- and what seems like the whole head of Smith-- in one glorious package, this is the one that matters."