The ominous sound of thunder rolls around the lush art deco space of Troxy in London’s east end for a good half an hour before The Cure take to the stage. A little over 3,000 people are here to celebrate the release of the long-gestated and majestic Songs of a Lost World, the band’s first studio album in 16 years. The ‘Show of a Lost World’ sold out in about three seconds (that’s not an exaggeration) and is also being live streamed around the world. It feels special to be here.
An album of grief, despair and desperate isolation deserves such an intimate space and when the band come on and start with album opener “Alone” there’s a genuine sense of awe in the crowd. People know how lucky they are to be here, and few bands encourage as much devotion as The Cure. As the band weave their way through the first songs there are plenty of tears being wiped away by the crowd.
Robert Smith’s vocals remain as clear and strong as ever – and as glorious as his glittery black shirt – the passing years failing to dim or alter the timbre of his voice. It cracks at several points through the night due to the pure emotional weight of the songs, most notably on “I Can Never Say Goodbye” which is about his brother dying of cancer.
Death and loss are central themes on the record, so it’s wonderful to see Roger O’Donnell return on keyboards after his own diagnosis of lymphoma in recent years. Not only is he here, but it looks like he’s having the time of his life, too. Simon Gallup prowls the stage for the first half of the show in a resplendent leopard print coat, and later in the night Smith tells the crowd that the two are celebrating 45 years since they first played together on stage. Gallup’s bass tone on “A Fragile Thing” is raspier and higher in the mix than on the recorded version, and it’s all the better for it.
Songs of a Lost World is played from beginning to end and it’s clear that these songs were made to be played live. Reeves Gabrels’ guitar work at the beginning of “Warsong” is even more sprawling and wonderful than on record, and there were a few other solos during the night – notably on “A Night Like This” – where you get the sense that both Smith and Gallup have no real clue where he may go as they both flicker approving glances in his direction as he draws attention away from himself and back to the song.
Perry Bamonte adds texture with keyboards and guitar on some tracks, while Jason Cooper’s drumming is metronomic while always being dynamic. “Endsong” closes the first set of the night in beautiful style, with more tears being wiped away by the crowd. It’s beautiful, life-affirming communal grief. Smith speaks to each of us and our own loss in mesmeric fashion. It’s as equally exhilarating as it is exhausting.
The Cure are decent enough to give us five minute’s respite as they walk off before returning to plough through their back catalogue. When they return, it feels like a weight has been lifted from their shoulders.
The camaraderie within the band seems tighter than ever with O’Donnell throwing a disparaging wince in Smith’s direction when he tries imitating the high-pitched melody line of “Close To Me” with his voice, Smith reacting by pointing to his head as if to suggest he’s getting too carried away. This is one of the joys of seeing The Cure live, it’s not choreographed to within an inch of its life and there’s still room for mistakes.
“Secrets” is played – the first time since 2011, fact fans – and O’Donnell royally screws up his piano line, while “Friday I’m In Love” is a hot mess as the second verse falls apart completely. There are no tantrums, though, just looks of shared bewilderment and the occasional smile.
“Burn” sounds better than ever, with Troxy’s sound giving it a tonal depth and ferocity which it rarely enjoys live, while “From the Edge of the Deep Green Sea” remains the best live song in The Cure’s arsenal by some distance. There’s a section dedicated to five songs from Seventeen Seconds, before an encore of the ‘pop’ songs including “Lullaby” and “Why Can’t I Be You?” where Smith “dances” in his inimitable manner – like a baby otter lacking basic motor skills – before the night is drawn to a close with a glorious singalong of “Boys Don’t Cry”.
Lots of bands can learn from the approach that The Cure take to their fans. There was clearly a huge clamour for tickets – and there are a good number of people here who have travelled to England especially for the show – but Robert Smith’s anti-Ticketmaster stance could be seen from the price of the tickets, the published breakdown of where the money went for each ticket, using the much more fan-friendly DICE site for ticket sales, and the very deliberate messages about the band’s stance on dynamic pricing. The live stream is free, and the merchandise inside is cheaper than most small club gigs, all highlighting how The Cure don’t want to alienate their core fanbase for an easy tonne of money. Integrity – it’s not hard, is it?
The Cureation show as part of Robert Smith’s Meltdown Festival in 2018 was labelled as ‘From There to Here/From Here to There’ as the band went through one track from each album chronologically before hitting a couple of (still) unreleased songs and then working back through their back catalogue in reverse order. For the ‘Show of a Lost World’ they took us from there (pain, grief, despair) to here (unadulterated joy) over a period of 31 songs and three hours.
There had been gentle whispers circling before the gig that this could be the last ever Cure show, and there’s a palpable sense of jubilation and relief as Smith stands at the end, soaking in the crowd’s adoration, before he says “We’ll see you soon.” A night to cherish.
