From XS Noize:
ALBUM REVIEW: The Cure – Songs of a Lost World
5.0 rating
Lori Gava
After a sixteen-year wait, Songs of a Lost World, The Cure’s highly anticipated fourteenth studio album, has finally arrived. Rumours about the release date began circulating as far back as 2018, a testament to frontman Robert Smith’s perfectionism and meticulous attention to detail.
The extensive gestation process has left fans and critics wondering: was the wait worth it? In a word, yes. Not since 1989’s Disintegration has The Cure delivered such a cohesive and emotionally resonant body of work.
Songs of a Lost World marks the band’s first release since 2008’s 4:13 Dream. Initially slated for 2019, all tracks were penned by Smith, who co-produced the album with Paul Corkett at Rockfield Studios in Monmouthshire, Wales. Many of these songs were played live during The Cure’s 2022-2023 Shows of a Lost World tour, giving fans a taste of the album’s dark beauty. Long-time band members joining Smith on this journey: Simon Gallup on bass, Jason Cooper on drums, Roger O’Donnell on keyboards, and Reeves Gabrels on guitar.
The album was forged during a challenging time for Smith. He lost his parents and older brother and witnessed O’Donnell’s successful battle with blood cancer. These personal tragedies are etched deeply into the album’s lyrics and sonic landscapes. In Songs of a Lost World, Smith confronts the despair of grief, loss, and mortality, unafraid to lay bare his emotions. Each track immerses the listener in his journey, revealing the pain and introspection that came with each painstaking rewrite.
The album opens with “Alone,” a powerful dirge confronting mortality head-on. It’s as if the weight of all The Cure has ever explored musically is channelled into this single track. Smith’s lyrics, “The end of every song,” resonate with the heartache of knowing that youth and innocence are irretrievably lost. It’s a stunning opener, filled with classic Cure sonics that reflect Smith’s losses with visceral force.
The second track, “And Nothing is Forever,” shifts to a more melodic feel with piano and strings, only to explode into a full-band sound. In a poignant plea, Smith begs his partner to “promise you will be with me till the end,” wrestling with the dread of dying alone. The melancholy line, “I know, I know my world is growing old…nothing lasts forever,” perfectly encapsulates the theme of mortality that threads through the album.
“A Fragile Thing” bears echoes of Wish‘s “Wendy Time,” offering a tense portrayal of a relationship strained by unresolved trauma. With a haunting refrain, Smith sings, “There is nothing you can do to change the end,” making it one of the lighter tracks on an otherwise bleak album. In “War Song,” Smith moves closer to social commentary, expressing profound anger and disillusionment. With its driving guitar riffs and organ flourishes, the song explores the destructive forces of conflict, whether personal or geopolitical: “I want your death, and you want my life.”
The record also boasts moments of pure Cure rock, like “Drone: No Drone,” which channels the energy of “Never Enough.” Smith grapples with his inability to make sense of the world—a theme he’s revisited throughout his career—with fantastic guitar work that gives the track its allure.
The album’s intros are remarkable in their patience and tension, holding the listener’s attention until the total weight of each song arrives. This method, which The Cure perfected on Disintegration, feels even more refined here, enhancing the album’s cathartic power.
Smith’s grief shines through in “I Can Never Say Goodbye,” a wrenching tribute to his late brother Richard. The opening storm recalls Disintegration’s “Same Deep Water as You” as Smith accelerates down a path of sorrow, singing, “Something wicked this way comes…it took away my brother’s life…I can never say goodbye.” The sorrow hits hard, delivering a haunting sense of finality that mirrors the universal experience of mourning.
“All I Ever Am” follows with a brisk tempo and classic Cure guitar, though its upbeat sound belies a darker reflection on fading memories and missed opportunities. Smith asks where all his hopes and dreams have gone as he confronts the relentless ticking of time and the spectre of death.
The album closes with “Endsong,” a fitting finale that revisits “Alone’s” theme with the refrain, “The end of every song.” The track’s lengthy intro builds to a sweeping, polyphonic crescendo as Smith reflects on youthful dreams and the paths left behind. “I am outside in the dark wondering how I got so old… it’s all gone…bereft of all I loved,” he sings, capturing the bitter beauty of fleeting life. “Endsong” evokes a sense of finality reminiscent of David Bowie’s farewell in Blackstar, echoing the inevitable sorrow of endings.
Songs of a Lost World immerses listeners in a heartbreaking yet cathartic experience, underscoring Robert Smith’s most personal, vulnerable work. Like Disintegration, this album finds Smith grappling with life’s biggest questions, now with the clarity of a man facing his mortality. The Cure has crafted an album that reveals more with each listen, one that stands among their finest achievements. It’s been worth every moment of the wait.