The Cure – Songs Of A Lost World

A grand, heart-breaking statement...

Sometimes, fans can wait so long for something that when it’s finally in their hands – or ears, in this case – they are filled with a sense of disbelief. After 16 years, British figureheads The Cure have finally delivered a follow-up to their last full-length, ‘4:13 Dream’. They’ve hardly been resting on their laurels during this time. The band has headlined the likes of Glastonbury, celebrated their 40th anniversary, and gone around the world over and over, playing mammoth sets. Simply put, followers of the gloomy outfit have not been starved of a chance to enjoy The Cure’s singular back catalogue in a live setting. Still, the thirst for fresh material has only grown and grown. There was an inkling in Cureheads’ hearts that frontman Robert Smith still had another grand, heart-breaking statement in him… and they weren’t wrong.

With much of the material being road-tested on the group’s 2022-2023 ‘Shows Of A Lost World’, it was clear that the group was leaning back into the grand, introspective sound that had cemented their critical legacy. While Smith has a genius knack for creating dizzying pop songs, it’s his moody epics and tear inducing lyrics that have helped create legions of eternally loyal fans over the decades. With the songwriter sadly losing both his parents and brother in the intervening years since ‘4:13 Dream,’ Smith’s fascination with loss, love, and time has now found new levels of potency.

So, is ‘Songs of a Lost World’ worth the wait? That’s a resounding yes from us.

From the off, it’s clear The Cure’s 14th album is one of their most emotionally raw. At eight songs, albeit long ones, it’s their most cohesive set since 2000’s ‘Bloodflowers’ and their most moving since 1992’s ‘Wish’. By working with producer/Cure FOH sound man Paul Corkett, Smith has opted for a bruising live sound, Simon Gallup’s snarling bass tones, and drummer Jason Cooper’s snare hits jumping out the speakers. While some may prefer the more hazy production of earlier material, there’s a directness to the sonics that matches the gut-wrenching honesty of the material. This is a band (mostly) in their 60s dealing with all the emotional baggage they’ve accrued over the past decade and a half. It has a right to grab your attention.

Our first taster from the album was the opener, ‘Alone’, it still stands as a perfect vibe-setting number for the album. Reminiscent of the outfit’s ‘Disintegration’ era, the band builds a mood for over three minutes before Smith enters the picture, his voice unchanged since the 80s.  With imagery of birds falling from the sky and bitter dregs, it’s apparent that we’re not getting another ‘Friday I’m in Love’ on this album. That’s not to say there isn’t beauty to be found. The following ‘And Nothing Is Forever’ is gorgeously wistful, Roger O’Donnell’s sparkling keys adding sweetness to Smith’s tale of loss. It’s classic Cure and really captures what makes the band so unique. A command of shadow and light.

The icy ‘A Fragile Thing’ may be the closest the album gets to producing a ‘pop’ number. Matching the spirit of the group’s mid-90s b-sides, the track feels like an anti ‘Lovesong,’ Smith’s conversational vocal delivery dropping harsh truths about how love and commitment can be a blessing and curse. ‘Warsong’ sees The Cure at their most mighty in decades, guitarist Reeves Gabrels unleashing wailing guitars as Smith roars about the poisoning effect of hatred and pride. Especially poignant with the current geopolitical issues.

‘Drone: No Drone’ sees the welcome return of what this reviewer likes to call ‘Sassy Smith’ mode. During these moments – see also ‘Wendy Time,’ ‘Never Enough‘ – the messy-haired icon spits lyrics over a funky beat with a tangible level of irritability. It’s a fun reprieve from the emotional heft of its surrounding tracks and gets the head bopping. A good thing, too, as the following ‘I Can Never Say Goodbye’ deals directly with the loss of Smith’s older brother Richard. A stately affair, the track is bound to resonate with those who’ve felt the world-changing effect of grief, Smith delivering his best vocals on the record.

The previously unheard ‘All I Ever Am’ makes for a welcome surprise, Gallups’ zippy bassline leading the charge on SOALW’s most uptempo moment. Sure, it’s still focused on memories and regret, but it’s a bit of a banger at the same time, Smith’s baritone bass laying down some serious licks. Before we know it, we come to the aptly titled closer ‘Endsong,’ arguably the number that made the biggest impression when aired live a few years ago. With a length of 10:23, it’s clear listeners are in for something epic, and boy, the band delivers.

Sounding melancholic and majestic as only The Cure can, ‘Endsong’ is a behemoth of emotion. A thick wall of tribal drums and shrieking guitars creates an apocalyptic tone, only reinforced by Smith’s mention of ‘blood red moons’ and repeated refrain of “It’s all gone.” It quickly joins the ranks of other great Cure closers, such as ‘Sinking’ and ‘Bloodflowers.‘ It sounds enormous and best captures SOALW’s spirit. There is no escaping the passing of time. 

The old idiom ‘Be careful what you wish for’ is often applied to veteran groups dropping a new album but definitely not here. With ‘Songs Of A Lost World,’ The Cure has not only produced something worth the wait but added another classic to their already sterling catalogue. This is a late-career gem from one of the world’s most idiosyncratic acts.

With a sense of finality running through the LP, it was fair to assume that this may indeed be the end of The Cure’s story. However, as fans know, Robert Smith’s future plans are ever-shifting and a recent interview has revealed another album is almost complete. Onwards then! 

9/10

Words: Sam Walker-Smart

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