The British rock band The Cure released their first album since 2008 last Friday. The new song, entitled Songs of a Lost World, was played song by song live at a chamber concert in London the same day. Singer Robert Smith and his bandmates proved that they do not live in the past and operate outside of time.
London (from our correspondent) – “I’m standing outside in the dark wondering how I got so old,” sings sixty-five-year-old Robert Smith in a monumental voice. The ten-minute composition Endsong is pushed forward by slow, heavy drum beats, flowing on synthesizer surfaces. “I’m left alone / At the end of every song I’m alone and I’ve got nothing / Nothing, nothing,” the frontman repeats in the song’s finale, as the urgency in his voice turns to surrender.
In London’s Troxy club, the first part of the evening is just ending, in which The Cure played their new album Songs of a Lost World from start to finish. It was the first time and very likely the last time.
A little over 3,000 people can fit inside, which for the band that filled the O2 arena in Prague the year before last, represents a chamber performance. Buying tickets was like a lottery, they disappeared in seconds. But because elitism is against The Cure, as Smith told Rolling Stone magazine, they decided to stream the show live and for free on YouTube. The video has already garnered over a million views.
The exceptionality of the moment is enhanced by the recently renovated art deco hall. The sound is crystal clear. Although the Troxy is far from the center of London, it is one of the most beautiful music venues in the English capital. It opened as a cinema in 1933, the first film was shown here King Kong. Now the audience is watching a drama of similar proportions. It’s just that The Cure don’t need giant monkeys to create a monumental impression, they can create it from ordinary human feelings and melancholic melodies.
Only the blood moon remained
“I’m standing outside in the dark staring at the blood moon / I remember my hopes and dreams / And I wonder what happened to that boy and his world,” Robert Smith also sings in Endsong, one of his most personal. He was inspired by the experience of the night in 1969 when Apollo 11 flew to the moon. The musician was ten years old and, like many, he thought he could achieve anything he set his mind to. All that remained of his youth and optimism was the memory of the red moon now shining behind him in Troxy.
He wanted to release the new album Songs of the Lost World already in 2019, but
The evening opens with Alone, the first song from the album. Just like on the recording, Smith’s voice is heard only after more than three minutes, which in the music industry is considered the perfect footage of a radio hit. In Smith’s world, foreplay is enough. Incidentally, it illustrates just how out of place The Cure are in today’s world, where people use their fingers on mobile phone screens to skip between videos every few seconds. The Cure build each song slowly, feelingly and with concentration at the London concert. Words take time.
A bass player in a fur coat
When Robert Smith starts playing the guitar solo in the third act of the evening, A Fragile Thing, he just hangs his head and looks down at his fingers. He seems to be strumming at home in his room, the hopelessly sold out club seemingly disappearing before his eyes. And gone seems to be a career lasting almost half a century, during which The Cure changed the lives of millions of people around the world. A guy with flowing black hair stands on the stage playing with his friends.
The civilian impression is enhanced by the austere scene. Drummer Jason Cooper’s kit is placed on ordinary practice benches, around which there is equipment under construction. Except for the projection of the red moon, there are no decorations or backdrops, just the inscription Bad Wolf referring to the entity from the British sci-fi series Doctor Who. The BBC has been filming him since 1963 and bassist Simon Gallup is one of his big fans.
Sixty-four-year-old Gallup is wearing a leopard-print fur coat, which he puts away in the next act. His bass remains suspended far below his waist. Especially in the higher notes, his lines sound like pulling a chain on rough concrete. The new songs, figuratively speaking, raise the clouds of synthesizers, but Gallup and the drummer tie them to the ground.
“Something bad will come this way / And it’ll take my brother’s life,” sings Robert Smith to the repetitive piano melody of I Can Never Say Goodbye. He struggled with it for a long time, finally taking the most direct route and describing the night his brother Richard died two years ago.
It was an older sibling who showed Robert Smith how to play the guitar as a child. At fourteen, he invited him to the first band, it was called The Crawley Goat Band, and their sister also had a place in it. When he sings about it now, the hall looks on in fascination rather than swaying ecstatically. Nevertheless, a thunderous ovation follows. “I’ll see you in a minute,” Smith announces curtly, pausing and the six-man formation leaves behind the curtain.
Robert Smith can’t play concerts shorter than three hours, and London’s Troxy will be no exception. From now on, the audience will be treated to three more acts, a flight of precisely selected hits and rarities.
The exclusivity of The Cure’s concert was enhanced by the recently renovated hall of London’s Troxy in art deco style. | Photo: Tom Pallant
“Yesterday I got so old I felt like I could die / Yesterday I got so old I wanted to cry,” Smith later sings on the 1985 hit In Between Days. Fear of the ticking clock runs throughout The Cure’s repertoire.
The existential trauma from life, into which we are thrown with the knowledge of an inevitable end, is processed over and over again in the songs. But the London club is bursting with joy and excitement.
Above all, Smith’s voice goes against time. They sound exactly the same on album and live as they did on their debut Three Imaginary Boys from 1979. You can see the advancing years when you look at the singer, but the picture doesn’t match the sound.
“If you’re into fast fashion, you might have noticed I’m wearing a shirt from the Disintegration era,” Smith jokes after the next song. It is to the sound and urgency of this 1989 album, considered by many to be their best, that The Cure return to with a new release.
About halfway through the concert turns into a party, people are already dancing on the balcony. The nervousness of the material played for the first time falls from the band for good. During the age-old hit Friday I’m in Love, the main character of the evening enters the verse poorly, as if she lost the thread due to sheer enthusiasm. The bandmates are looking for each other, but in the end they get the song back on track. To their credit, the corrupted song remains unaltered on the internet record. Star mannerisms and retouching do not belong in the world of The Cure, to err is human.
Although Prague will not experience such a concert as in Troxy, it cannot be ruled out that The Cure will also return to the Czech Republic. Robert Smith
recently revealed plans for the future: he wants to end the band’s activities on the occasion of its 50th anniversary, which falls in 2028. It is said that they may continue to play a year after that, when Smith turns 70. Then the introvert, who spends his whole life giving himself to others, wants to keep quiet. Both the Songs of a Lost World album and the London concert show that his voice will be missed.
How much passion and dedication he has for his craft; his voice carries the weight of decades, yet it remains as poignant and powerful as ever.
As the concert progresses, a palpable connection forms between Smith and the audience. The fans, some of whom have followed The Cure since their inception, echo the lyrics back to him, their voices blending harmoniously with his. Each rendition is a celebration of shared memories and experiences often rooted in the themes of youth, loss, and longing that define much of The Cure’s music.
After an extensive three-hour set, the night’s end draws near. Each song has been a journey, with Smith’s emotive storytelling and the band’s lush soundscapes immersing the audience in an almost transcendental experience. The fans linger, reluctant to leave the venue, as if trying to hold onto the moments just shared.
In a world increasingly defined by fleeting attention spans and bite-sized content, The Cure’s willingness to take their time with each song and performance stands out as a testament to the enduring power of live music. Robert Smith and his bandmates have woven together a tapestry of sound that resonates deeply, urging the audience to reflect on the passage of time and the beauty found within both life’s struggles and moments of joy.
As the final notes of the night linger in the air, there is a collective feeling of gratitude: for the music, for the memories it evokes, and for the chance to witness a band that has not only survived the test of time but continues to thrive, evolving while staying true to their artistic roots. The evening at Troxy has been a reminder of the connection between artist and audience, a bridge built on shared experiences and timeless melodies.