Alone… but with The Cure, you’re never *really* alone, are you?
The Cure
Songs Of A Lost World (Polydor)
The Cure, in various iterations, has been around for so long that it could be argued that they invented the concept of eras. It’s been a journey of unexpected hits across decades, from new wave and the simple sparkle of ‘Friday I’m in Love’, to the haunting ‘Pictures of You’, via the complexity of ‘A Forest’. Despite its changing members, the band’s sound remains timeless and authentic.
This makes Songs Of A Lost World somewhat comforting and familiar, despite the dramatic and bleak lyrics. The world has changed in the 16 years since their last album, but The Cure hasn’t. It’s the same sky-is-falling vocals, that same rich and almost indulgent production that echoes back to the majesty of Disintegration and Bloodflowers; but it doesn’t sound derivative or repetitive. Where in the past, ‘Never Enough’ may have referred to desire and wanting, on this album, the phrase becomes an anguished lament of time passing, and personal failing.
The video for the lead single and first track, ‘Alone’, features a rock slowly spinning in the void. Accompanied by a soundtrack of lush expansive instrumentation, from a distance, a face in is slowly revealed - perhaps a play on a headstone? It’s the cinematic sound of a cemetery, and it sets the tone for what follows. Smith’s bleak vocals interrupt late, almost as an afterthought.
'Nothing Is Forever’ is calmer, softer; the keyboard here offers some respite. As rhythmic as breathing, the lyrics have Smith bargaining with fate. ‘A Fragile Thing’ is more recognisable as a second single. Some of the guitar solo almost sounds like ‘Pictures of You’, and the importance being placed on the way the songs end becomes apparent.
The shortest song on the album, ‘Warsong’, announces itself with a marching drum beat propelling it forwards. A cacophony of discordant sound, it’s reminiscent of Bowie’s 'Blackstar', which is an interesting direction, with Bowie’s guitarist in the current lineup. ‘Drone:Nodrone’ sounds like it would not have been out of place on 1990’s ‘Mixed Up’.
‘I Can Never Say Goodbye’, with its Shakespearean chant as if to ward off demons, allows the listener another reprieve from the intensity. Perhaps the flip side of the coin to ‘Lovesong’, ‘All I Ever Am’ has Smith bearing witness to mortality: what happens when ‘always’ ends?
The formal grandeur of ’Endsong’ closes, with its epic instrumental suggesting a cold infinity, while Smith’s emotive voice grounds it solidly on earth; every instrument building up to a huge crescendo, only to just… end.
Part of the allure of the Cure is that they capture the essence of wallowing alone, but it’s a solitude that is comforted by being a shared experience. In the past, the dark pain has often been shot through with a silvery thread of playfully British brightness, sticking two waggling fingers up to the seriousness of their own gothic/ scandi noir aesthetic. It’s hard to find the slivers of light in this album. Smith has said he envisions this to be the first of a trilogy of albums, with each album being conceptually different, the final instalment offering the light. In that case, Songs Of A Lost World may well be a prelude, not the end, and not even meant to stand alone. Let’s hope the journey continues.
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