THE CURE: Songs Of A Lost World (ROCK): review / opinion to read on Music Waves

Since their previous mischief “4:13 Dream”, The Cure didn't seem to be about to return to the studio, much to the dismay of their bassist Simon Gallup. After announcing the release of one or two albums over the years, each time postponing the release date, “Songs Of A Lost World”, The Cure's 14th studio album (15th if “Japanese Whispers” is counted as part of it) finally saw the light of day the day after Halloween 2024.

The Cure's previous albums tried out new approaches by daring to mix genres, but here the tracks seem to come out of the same mold, like “Pornography”, and they flow melancholically without vitiating the atmosphere. Even when borrowing motifs from the past, the band never repeats themselves and seems to continue where they left off earlier. Robert Smith seems to have inherited the microphone from Dorian Gray, and time seems to have no hold on his sweet voice, which makes you want to follow him in his labyrinthine reflections. The melancholy sonic relics of a lost world evoke “Disintegration”, but the album is more reminiscent of “Wish”, not least because of the role played by the guitars - Reeves Gabrels and Robert Smith don't skimp on the decibels. The electricity is feverish on 'Drone: Nodrone' and 'Warsong', and Reeves Gabrels' guitar is particularly sharp, but Roger O'Donnell's heady keyboard patterns provide a breath of fresh air. Indeed, it's he who comes into his own on 'I Can Never Say Goodbye' with a circular piano tune conveying distress and despondency - the lyrics deal directly with the disappearance of Robert Smith's brother. There's no track that's a little more pop or a little more delirious, but that might have worked against the concept. The album closes its luminous arpeggios with a ten-minute track that sets a charged yet graceful mood.

The cover reveals a lunar sculpture resembling a giant frozen in reflection. Ironically, Robert Smith's first line announces that “This Is The End Of Every Song That We Sing”, while the final word on the opus is “nothing” - in other words, a journey from “the end” to “nothing”! Between darkness and reflection, that's what could well define this magnum opus. The album's themes - an introspection on life cruelly passing and beings crumbling - don't sink into a morbid abyss, but open up a reflection: we must accept our fate and gather assent and confirmation before the inescapable plunge forward.

“Songs Of A Lost World” is a winning return for The Cure and its exemplary captain Robert Smith, who invites us to join him on this stroll laden with black spleen but never devoid of grace. Is Lost World a lucid look at a life rushing towards its mouth? Does this mean that this will be The Cure's last album (probably not, even if “It's all gone” repeated on the final track could serve as an argument), or rather the last in this style? Is it a transition to that other ghost album Robert Smith has been harping on about, an opus that would be more violent than its twin? We're eagerly awaiting the next one, now that The Cure is back on track. - Official website

THE CURE

SONGS OF A LOST WORLD

POLYDOR

ROCK