From Michael Ciravolo at Schecter:
new Schecter Simon Gallup Limited Edition Signature Edition Bass ⚜️
https://www.schecterguitars.com/product/17473
From Michael Ciravolo at Schecter:
new Schecter Simon Gallup Limited Edition Signature Edition Bass ⚜️
https://www.schecterguitars.com/product/17473
From Mojo:
The Cure Songs Of A Lost World Review: An audaciously bleak, beautiful journey
Haunted by bereavement, The Cure’s first album in 16 years finds Robert Smith coming to terms with mortality in majestic style.
by Victoria Segal
★★★★
There is no blue plaque at The Railway in Crawley, no photographs celebrating the most culturally significant moment in the pub’s history: the first official gig by The Cure (formerly Easy Cure) in 1978. Yet The Rocket has once again become embroiled in The Cure’s epic story. On September 13, a dark poster appeared outside, reading “Songs Of A Lost World” and a date: “I. XI. MMXXIV.”
Sixteen years after the release of 4:13 Dream, The Cure’s long-promised 14th album is finally a reality, and it’s clear now why The Cure launched it at their point of origin. Songs Of A Lost World is a record about endings, about loss and grief, about the compromises and confusions that cling to a person as they move through their lives, warping and distorting their original intentions. There is real poignancy in looking back to a time and place where life was still a clean slate, before you find yourself – as Smith does on the closing track, Endsong – looking up at the sky and wondering where you’ve gone. Maybe it does matter if we all die, after all.
When these songs first emerged, on the European leg of 2022’s Shows Of A Lost World tour, the band would open and close their main set the same way: with Alone, its opening line “This is the end of every song we sing,”; and Endsong, which finishes “Left alone with nothing / The end of every song / Nothing.”
The new album follows this sequencing, a kind of dust-to-dust musical palindrome that locks the album into its fate, exits and entrances blocked. Death and disillusionment are hardly unusual Cure elements, but these eight songs have the same concentrated intensity as 1989’s Disintegration, a record similarly preoccupied with broken dreams, ebbing potential, mortality. That record was a product of Smith’s horror at turning 30, then an unimaginable milestone of decay. In 2024, it’s inevitable that falling apart means something very different. “Before I used to write about stuff that I thought I understood,” said Smith in 2019. “Now I know I understand it.”
That year, Smith revealed he had recently lost his father, his mother and his older brother Richard, the latter instrumental in introducing him to Jimi Hendrix and Captain Beefheart and his companion in an earlier musical venture, The Crawley Goat Band. Richard lived in Poland for years; harrowing SOALW song I Can Never Say Goodbye was first played on October 22, 2022, at Krakow’s Tauron Arena. It’s the song at the eye of the album’s emotional storm, Smith singing “Something wicked this way comes / To steal away my brother’s life”.
On a record so alert to the cataclysmic effects of mortality, it’s remarkable how fundamentally unchanged Smith’s voice is, uncracked into a Bob Dylan croak or plunged to new Leonard Cohen depths. Yet there’s no kittenish levity on this record, nothing approaching a pop song – no equivalent of Disintegration’s spidery Lullaby to break the mood. The Never Enough grooves of the spectacular Drone slide closest to a gear-change, but even there, the ground is unsteady. “I’m breaking up again,” sings Smith. Disintegration, in other words, with all its oceanic expanses, its cold glittering light.
Opener Alone is the first station on the album’s audaciously bleak, beautiful journey, inspired by tubercular Victorian poet Ernest Dowson, and his poem Dregs: “The fire is out, and spent the warmth thereof / (This is the end of every song man sings!)” It’s a telling addition to Smith’s lace-edged, blood-speckled treasury of Poe, Rimbaud and Baudelaire.
If Alone’s pain is couched in universal terms, And Nothing Lasts Forever comes from a very specific set of circumstances, “a promise I made to someone that I would be with them when they died,” Smith writes in a note sent to reviewers. “But for reasons beyond my control, I didn’t keep that promise. It upset me dreadfully.” There’s a painful, escalating catch in Smith’s phrasing, twisting the opulent backing into something more desperate, the light of an implacable pink moon just detectable in the piano.
Death is at the core of Songs Of A Lost World, but it’s not the only loss. The torrential dialogue of A Fragile Thing rolls in the deepest romantic gloom – “‘Every time you kiss me I could cry,’ she said” – while Warsong, opening with a martial drone reminiscent of Disintegration-era rarity, Pirate Ships, is flooded with deep emotional water.
Another kind of loss explored by SOALW is loss of self, a concept refracted in the crunched-spine funk of Drone: Nodrone, inspired, says Smith, by a drone that flew over his garden, throwing him into a confusion of doubt. Was he being spied on, or not? Smith doesn’t know what to think, and not knowing what to think is almost worse than being watched. Yet it’s also a song about not being sure who you are any more – even if your identity, your image, seems as to be as solid as Smith’s.
All I Ever Am, meanwhile, pushes the rock star towards the nightmare of a “dark and empty stage,” an unfillable void. Smith talks about a “strange feeling of dissociation”, which peaks in Endsong’s grand celestial collapse, recorded around the 50th anniversary of the moon landings and testament to Smith’s life-long stargazing tendencies. “I was outside looking up and back a lot that summer, lamenting age and an increasingly broken world, and always seemed to return to the same two questions; where did that old world go and where did I go?”
Endsong might feel like an asteroid-sized, extinction-event full-stop, but it’s not impossible that The Cure could simply be entering another phase in their remarkable career. The album artwork looks like an ancient stone head, an Atlantis relic, its features so worn away they are barely visible. Yet it’s a 1975 piece by the Slovenian sculptor Janez Pirnat, and the face could just as easily be emerging from the stone as vanishing back into it.
While The Cure are fortunate to have a regenerating fanbase - a generation of fans at 2023 shows who’d never been alive for the real-time release of a new album - the audience who have grown up with them will be staring down the barrel of the same gun as Smith, facing similar griefs, uncertainties, questions. With Songs Of A Lost World, The Cure, often seen as the soundtrack to an eternally doomy adolescence, might just be coming of age.
From Consequence:
The Cure’s Robert Smith has revealed he has a time window in mind for his band’s retirement. In a lengthy interview with Matt Everitt published on the group’s official website, Smith explained his final plans for The Cure revolve around the respective 50th anniversary celebrations of the group in 2028 and their debut album in 2029.
The final lap will begin with The Cure’s next world tour, which Smith aims to start “autumn next year” after completing the follow-up to their upcoming album, Songs of a Lost World. After that, the band will play “quite regularly” through their 50th anniversary, which they’ll also mark with a previously teased documentary film.
“Seriously, I have to finish the second album,” Smith told Everitt. “We were going to play festivals next year, but a couple weeks ago, I decided that we weren’t going to play anything next summer. The next time we go out on stage will be autumn next year.”
He continued, “But then we’ll probably be playing quite regularly through until the next anniversary — the 2028 anniversary that’s just looming on the horizon. The 2018 one, I started to think about in late 2016, thinking, ‘I’ve got a year and a half, it’s easy!’ And I still didn’t manage to get there in time. Now, I’m starting to think, ‘2028, I must get things in order;’ so [that’s] the documentary film and various other things like that.”
“I’m 70 in 2029, and that’s the 50th anniversary of the first Cure album [Three Imaginary Boys],” Smith said. “If I make it that far, that’s it. In the intervening time, I’d like to include playing concerts as part of the overall plan of what we’re going to do. I’ve loved it; the last 10 years of playing shows have been the best 10 years of being in the band. It pisses all over the other 30-odd years! It’s been great.”
Smith added that the band has felt a sense of “freedom” while touring over the past several years without a new album because they were able to draw from their extensive catalog.
“We’ve turned into a live band that draws on the catalog,” he said. “We can go out and play shows, and we can play two hours of 30 songs and completely different songs each night.”
From Music Radar:
“Each instrument comes with a custom hardshell case, a signed COA from Robert Smith and directly supports life-saving cancer research”: Schecter and the Cure’s Robert Smith join forces for charity with the release of the Shellflower UltraCure
By Jonathan Horsley
This limited edition run comprises an UltraCure electric guitar and its 30" scale six-string bass sibling, and $500 from the sale of each instrument goes to the World Cancer Research Fund
The UltraCure and UltraCure VI are finished with a black-and-white “Shellflower” graphic, courtesy of Bunny Lake Designs, and each guitar sold will raise $500 for the cancer charity, with Smith and Schecter both donating $250 each.
Schecter’s shipping these super-collectible six-strings in a custom hardshell guitar case, inside which you will find a certificate of authenticity, signed by Smith, and one very rare electric guitar. They are not making many of these.
There will be just 50 of the UltraCure standard electric guitars, with 25 of the UltraCure VI for those wanting to take their sound down an octave. Through a clean amp, with a splash of reverb and some movement and depth from a chorus pedal, the UltraCure VI should give you one heady tone.
Like the Fender Electric VI, it’s technically a bass guitar but no one can really commit to calling it that – it feels more like a hybrid.
Smith’s UltraCure VI even draws some inspiration from the Jaguar, with a trio of slider switches to turn each pickup on and off, and the pickups themselves as Seymour Duncan Jaguar single-coils, with the middle pickup reverse-wound. Tone and volume controls are on-hand to dial in a sound.
The body is solid mahogany, the neck three-piece maple, reinforced with carbon fibre rods to deal with all that extra string tension. With a short 30” scale it will be noticeably more approachable for guitarists who otherwise might find a bass unwieldy.
More conventional, though with an offset shape and spec that is anything but, the UltraCure is a dual-humbucker electric with a Bigsby vibrato and some very cool details, sharing many specs as its longer-scaled sibling.
Again, we’ve got the mahogany body, the three-piece maple neck, the rosewood fingerboard with the MOP block inlays. The neck profile is a comfortable thin C shape. There are 24 jumbo frets.
But with a pair of Schecter’s PAF-alike USA Route-57 humbuckers it has a very different voice. These are selected by a three-way toggle switch, and controlled by individual pickup volume controls and a master tone knob mounted on the lower horn. Tone-wise, this is ballpark Gibson-with-a-Bigsby, and that is something to get excited about.
These special edition models are available now, are priced $1,500, and will raise money for a very good cause. For more details on the Robert Smith “Shellflower” UltraCure and and UltraCure VI, head over to Schecter.
From Love Andover:
Pride of Andover Awards tonight. Ben chatted with legendary bassist Simon Gallup of the Cure who is hosting this evening. Listen to Andover Radio tomorrow for the exclusive interview.
Thanks Andreas
From Clash:
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
From The Sunday Times:
The Cure’s Robert Smith: ‘Ticket pricing is a scam. It’s driven by greed’
The singer is back with the band’s first album in 16 years. In a rare interview, he holds forth on touring, grief and why he’s going to call it a day at 70
Jonathan Dean
The first thing you notice about Robert Smith is that uniform of his — wild hair, black clobber, lipstick. It is a look he has worn since the 1980s when the Cure became a cult and also achieved chart success. That is what you expect from him, but spend any time with Smith and what you will remember most is the man’s smile. It is generous, one that rather flies in the face of his band’s well-trodden image as being about as fun as a funeral, of their frontman being the gothic prince of all darkness.
“Well, I don’t read by candlelight,” he says with a grin, well aware of the image people have. “Yet I do spend a lot of time walking outside in the dark, which is in character. But it cannot all be doom and gloom — you need some light and dark.”
Smith, 65, is glorious company — the personification of that light and dark. I met him a few years ago and was struck by his warmth and wit. Back then he was writing the Cure’s new album, their first in 16 years, and I was aghast by his candour about depression and inadequacy. Now that record, Songs of a Lost World, is here and it is clear he was simply processing a lot.
Songs of a Lost World begins with Alone, which tackles planetary demise, features at least two songs about the deaths of people close to the singer and one called Warsong that, according to Smith, is “the most dismal song on the album — but it’s got a great guitar solo”.
Forget The Lovecats or the 1990s school-disco staple Friday I’m in Love. Think, instead, of the sprawling melancholia of the albums Disintegration or Pornography for the back-catalogue benchmark of how this marvel sounds. It is eight tracks of lushly orchestral despair, written by a man struggling to figure out his place in a changed world. One song details how upset he was when someone flew a drone over his garden. “I was in my pants.”
Smith has been teasing a new record for years. “It’s drifted in and out of my life,” he says in a video interview he recorded for the label at Abbey Road a few weeks ago, admitting entire alternative albums have been binned. Still, the Cure are arguably more popular than ever, with a tour — 90 dates to more than 1.3 million fans— that peaked at Glastonbury in 2019. Smith planned to make a record for the 40th anniversary of the band in 2018, but that tour got in the way. And then there was the pandemic.
“I read War and Peace,” he says, beaming, about lockdown. “Everyone always says they’re going to read it, so I did.” Did he enjoy it? “I didn’t really.” He actually liked moments of lockdown; there were no planes and birds flew in the sky. But there was also, of course, loss. Smith’s parents had already died but “all my aunts and uncles died in care homes …” He sighs. In the time he has taken to make a new album, most of the people close to him have gone. No wonder Songs of a Lost World is a torrent of tumult — deeply personal, deeply moving.
“Our songs always had a fear of mortality,” he says. “I don’t feel my age at all but I’m aware of it and when you get older that fear becomes more real. Death becomes more everyday. When you are younger you romanticise death, but then it happens to your family and friends. I am a different person to the last record and I wanted to put that across. It can be trite. People could say, ‘Oh, we’re all going to die — surprise me!’ But I try to find some emotional connection to that idea.”
He more than succeeds. The album standout And Nothing Is Forever has the lyrics: “Promise you’ll be with me in the end/ say we’ll be together/ that you won’t forget.” It is about a promise that Smith made to someone who was very ill that he would be at their side when they died, but he was not. “It upset me,” he says. “So I thought that, by memorialising it, it would make things easier. And, yes, the person who it’s about would be happy with the song, I think.”
Then there is I Could Never Say Goodbye — about his beloved elder brother, Richard, who died suddenly some years ago. “He taught me everything when I was younger,” Smith says. “There was an enormous outpouring of emotion when he died, of words, music, painting. And this is a simple narrative of what happened the night he died. People say ‘cathartic’ too much, but it was. It helped me enormously.”
Smith was born in 1959 — the third of four children. He mostly grew up in Crawley in Sussex. When he was seven Richard taught him his first guitar chords and Smith played in bands from his early teens. The Cure were formed in 1978. He loved Nick Drake, wanted to be Jimi Hendrix and was swept up by punk.
When Smith was 19 he went to see David Bowie play Earls Court. The men would later become friends, but what happened that night informed who Smith became. Bowie played for only 42 minutes and Smith was furious — he told himself that if he ever found himself in Bowie’s position, he would always do more for his fans and, as such, the Cure’s gigs run for hours. “I’d hate not to be able to justify myself to that 19-year-old,” Smith says.
This desire to do the right thing extends to the hot topic of tickets and how much firms like Ticketmaster and bands like Oasis charge fans. Last year, in an unusual move for an artist, Smith set prices for a US tour and then took Ticketmaster to task over the fees they had added, making the company refund punters.
“I was shocked by how much profit is made,” Smith says of modern ticketing. “I thought, ‘We don’t need to make all this money.’ My fights with the label have all been about how we can price things lower. The only reason you’d charge more for a gig is if you were worried that it was the last time you would be able to sell a T-shirt.
“But if you had the self-belief that you’re still going to be here in a year’s time, you’d want the show to be great so people come back. You don’t want to charge as much as the market will let you. If people save on the tickets, they buy beer or merch. There is goodwill, they will come back next time. It is a self-fulfilling good vibe and I don’t understand why more people don’t do it.
“It was easy to set ticket prices, but you need to be pig-headed. We didn’t allow dynamic pricing because it’s a scam that would disappear if every artist said, ‘I don’t want that!’ But most artists hide behind management. ‘Oh, we didn’t know,’ they say. They all know. If they say they do not, they’re either f***ing stupid or lying. It’s just driven by greed.”
He pauses and comes back to Songs of a Lost World and its inherent, questioning gloom. “The world is falling apart,” he says of its themes. “It’s insane. It’s greed, inequality, monetisation. I’ve realised some of my reactions to the modern world are a bit extreme, that I’m becoming an old grouch and that it’s easy to tip over to talking about the fond memories of a world that’s disappeared … but there are moments I just want to leave the front door shut.”
He’s even fallen out of love with his beloved football (he supports Queen’s Park Rangers). “It’s become about branding, sponsorship and betting — it’s just hair, tattoos and selling stuff.” He smiles and admits, “This is really curmudgeonly,” doing an impression of Victor Meldrew.
Smith plans to take the Cure on tour towards the end of next year and keep playing shows until 2028 — which will be the 50th anniversary of the band. “I’m 70 in 2029,” he says. “And that’s it, that really is it. If I make it that far, that’s it.”
“I’ve led a very privileged life,” he continues, sweetly, softly startled. “I can’t believe how lucky I’ve been. I’m still doing what I always wanted but the fact I’m still upright is probably the best thing about being me because there have been points where I didn’t think I would hit 30, 40, 50. My mind doesn’t function with the same acuity it once had, but I’m much more relaxed and easier to get on with.”
How does he know? He grins. “Because people smile at me more than they used to."
Songs of a Lost World is out on November 1
With all of the excitement over the new albums, hearing from some old friends who haven't been around in awhile and have asked about the old website and where they can find CoF these days. Here you go:
The old website (The original is long gone, but someone made this copy a few years ago. You never told me who you were, but thank you!)
This blog obviously
From Heavy Metal Truants:
Fans of The Cure, this one’s for you! 🫵
A Thunderbird Bass Guitar signed by Simon Gallup is up for auction! 🤘
Own a piece of rock history and support a great cause - it's #ForTheKids! Bid now!
From Robert:
TROXY ALBUM SHOW: TICKETS PRICED @ £56.61 = £50 FACE VALUE (INC £1 WARCHILD DONATION) + 8% BOOKING FEE (£4) + £1.50 RESTORATION LEVY + 2% TRANSACTION FEE (£1.11) VIA @DICEFM - NO DYNAMIC PRICING - DETAILS HERE.
From The Cure:
The Cure - Songs Of A Lost World : Album Launch Show
Live at Troxy London - 1st November 2024
Ticket info at thecure.com/troxy
Free Global Live Stream on The Cure YouTube - More details to follow
Aaron Law posted this on Twitter and Uncut retweeted it so I assume this is okay to post. If not, let me know.
Yes, there's going to be a Songs of a Lost World full album show.
From Uncut:
In the new Uncut, Smith reveals how he nearly disbanded The Cure in 2018 – but now has plans until 2029…
By Sam Richards
In the new issue of Uncut – in UK shops from today or available to order direct from us by clicking here – Robert Smith reveals how he almost disbanded The Cure upon reaching the group’s 40th anniversary in 2018.
“I thought that the Hyde Park show would be it, I thought that was the end of The Cure,” says Smith. “I didn’t plan it, but I had a sneaky feeling that this was going to be it. But it was such a great day and such a great response, I enjoyed it so much and we got
a flood of offers to headline every major European festival. ‘Do you want to play Glastonbury?’ So I thought maybe it’s not the right time to stop.
“I wasn’t stopping because I didn’t want to do it any more, I just thought it would allow me a few years when I’d still be able to do something else. I wasn’t that bothered, funnily enough. I’d arranged everything to end in 2018, so when we got to 2019, I felt relieved. ‘We did it!’ I’ve had a different outlook to everything since.
Pretty much everyone that died that meant something to me died prior to 2019, so I felt like I’ve got to make the most of it.”
Not only was this sequence of events the spur for writing much of new album Songs Of A Lost World, it prompted Smith to start looking even further ahead, to The Cure’s 50th anniversary in 2028 and beyond. “We’ll probably be playing quite regularly through until the 2028 anniversary… The last 10 years of playing shows have been the best 10 years of being in the band. It pisses all over the other 30-odd years!”
You can read much more from Robert Smith in the December 2024 issue of Uncut, in UK shops from today or available to order direct from us by clicking here.