The Cure, Songs of a Lost World Review

by Seamus Fitzpatrick

The Cure’s influence in post-punk, goth, and alternative rock cannot be overstated. For decades, they have defined the dark, emotive sound that shaped generations of listeners. With Songs of a Lost World, the band offers a return to form—stylistically reminiscent of Disintegration and Kiss Me Kiss Me Kiss Me, but infused with a new darkness and urgency. This album showcases Robert Smith’s introspection on mortality, finality, and the passage of time, giving listeners a raw perspective in his lyrics.

The album’s eight tracks serve as a concise, powerful statement. Each piece contributes to a broader narrative that honors The Cure’s legacy while offering fresh insights. Smith’s reflections are more direct here, exploring themes of lost youth, endings, and personal connections, all set against The Cure’s quintessential moody and atmospheric soundscapes.

Songs of a Lost World features Robert Smith (vocals, guitar, keyboards), Jason Cooper (drums, percussion), Roger O’Donnell (keyboards), Reeves Gabrels (guitar), and Simon Gallup (bass). Smith also takes the lead in production, collaborating with Paul Corkett on engineering and mixing. The album is characterized by lush, atmospheric arrangements that underscore Smith’s introspective lyricism.

The closing track, “Endsong,” carries an emotional weight that touches on memory, loss, and aging themes. The instrumentation builds over six minutes, featuring lush strings and atmospheric guitar layers—a quintessential Cure soundscape that feels both expansive and intimate. Cooper’s rolling drums form the foundation beneath the lush keyboards of O’Donnell and Smith. The guitars of Smith and Gabrels come together to form complex layers, and the minor tonality deepens the track’s atmosphere. The vocals, which don’t enter until the 6:23 mark, are expressive, with Smith painting the lyrics in his signature dark hues. The wah-wah guitar adds a layer of movement, enhancing the cadential figure and leaving the listener with a sense of lingering emotional resonance.

“Alone,” the opening track, establishes the themes of isolation and existential reflection that thread through the album. It has a shoegaze-like saturation of sound that is immersive and cinematic, akin to “Plainsong.” The relaxed feel in the intro supports instrumentation that builds through dark qualities and patterns until Smith’s vocals enter at 3:21, successfully setting the tone for the album. The added backing vocals elevate the chorus, adding power and depth. The melody flows like a story—while not instantly catchy, the atmosphere grows on the listener, becoming richer with each listen.

“I Can Never Say Goodbye” is one of the most personal moments on the album, as it deals directly with the loss of Smith’s brother, Richard. The track begins with a calm piano, gradually building to a powerful crescendo, mirroring the waves of grief and remembrance expressed in the lyrics. The song is a stark exploration of deep emotional pain, and Smith uses vivid imagery to portray his struggle. The verse reflects a sense of impending doom, as seen in lines like “Thunder rolling in to drown / November moon in cold black rain,” where natural elements mirror the emotional turmoil. The chorus—“Something wicked this way comes / From out the cruel and treacherous night / To steal away my brother’s life”—emphasizes the helplessness and inevitability of loss.

The lyrics poignantly illustrate the difficulty of parting, and Smith’s vocal delivery makes this theme resonate even more deeply. The emotions conveyed are raw, almost tactile, which makes “I Can Never Say Goodbye” one of the album’s most touching and relatable songs.

“Drone Nodrone” is the album’s most industrially intense track, exuding a hypnotic and moody vibe. It recalls the harder moments of The Cure’s past, such as “Never Enough,” with complex sonic layering and a tone of despair. The song features a hip, distorted bassline along with both clean and distorted guitar parts, creating a sense of texture and tension. The synths add colorful embellishments, while the melody carries a rhythmic catchiness that is easy to follow. The harmonic twists, moody guitar fills, and balance between activity and space make it an intriguing listening experience. The has a solid guitar solo, utilizing a wah-wah pedal, that digs into expressive bends, showcasing Smith and Gabrels’ skill in delivering emotion through guitar techniques.

In collaboration with Paul Corkett, Smith masterfully crafted the album’s production. The instrumentation is lush yet gritty, blending layers of string pads, distorted guitars, and hidden sonic textures that offer a polished but raw auditory experience. The use of subliminal details—like distortion, guitar reverb, and carefully placed sound effects—intentionally contributes to the overall dramatic effect.

Reeves Gabrels’ guitar contributions are subtle but impactful, especially in tracks like “Warsong” and “Endsong.” Simon Gallup’s basslines shine in moments but could have been more pronounced to add further depth to certain songs. Jason Cooper’s drumming remains integral to the cohesive “classic Cure” sound, propelling the songs forward with a confident yet understated presence.

Robert Smith’s vocals retain a youthful clarity despite his age, his delivery resonating with emotional vulnerability that gives the album an authentic edge. His lyrics are more transparent than ever, allowing listeners to see directly into his fears, doubts, and reflections.

The recurring themes of mortality, lost youth, and endings are presented through Smith’s poetic musings. His reflections on the passage of time are woven into each track, making the “lost world” a fitting metaphor for the experience of aging and reconciling with the past. This thematic exploration is both deeply personal and universally relatable, drawing listeners into an intimate space.

Songs of a Lost World extends The Cure’s tradition of embracing fragility and darkness, while also finding warmth in introspection. It has echoes of Disintegration and Wish, but instead of merely revisiting the past, it recontextualizes those soundscapes to confront present realities. The album resonates especially with those who grew up with The Cure and are now reflecting on their own experiences with time, loss, and memory.

The Cure successfully revisits their past while bringing fresh, emotional depth to this project. The album feels concise and intentional, with each track contributing meaningfully to its overarching narrative. The Cure manages to sound renewed, drawing from their extensive history without being beholden to it.

One of the album’s greatest strengths is its consistency in tone and atmosphere. Robert Smith’s lyrical vulnerability adds a rawness that deepens the listener’s connection to the music. However, there are moments where Gallup’s basslines or the synth arrangements could have benefited from more dynamic contrast, adding variety to the lush soundscapes.

Nearly five decades into their career, The Cure proves their relevance and emotional resonance are as powerful as ever. The album is a profound meditation on life’s fragility and endurance, speaking to long-time fans and a new audience. Songs of a Lost World is a reaffirmation of their artistry, expressing a “we’re back” sentiment that is comforting and deeply compelling. That’s the short of it!