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The Cure – Songs of a Lost World Review

The Cure’s Songs of a Lost World feels less like an album and more like an atmospheric soundtrack to films that only exist in Robert Smith’s mind. These songs don’t carry the usual weight of potential singles, instead flowing with cinematic synths, as if they were conceived to underscore pivotal, emotional scenes. The atmospheric layers, melancholy strings, and Smith’s haunting vocals evoke visual narratives:

“And Nothing Is New”: blossoming romance montage. A couple cuddles on the East coast. They see the stars over the Atlantic. The grinding guitars come in as they move in together. They get a dog. The crescendo at 1:45 is romance settling into safety and security—a sense of belonging. Friends come over for dinner parties. There are reruns on the TV as she falls asleep. He looks at her with a smirk. “Promise me you’ll be with me in the end” comes in. “And slide down close beside me” as he cuddles against her and goes to sleep on the couch too. “If you promise you’ll be with me in the end” plays for the last time as the guy kisses her forehead. Fade to black.

“A Fragile Thing”: A young woman moves to NYC. Her boyfriend refuses to come with her but visits after a few months. He tells her how he wrote her a song. The sadness in her eyes is screaming. She tells him, “This loneliness has changed me. We’ve been too far apart.” He plays her the song. She adds, “Nothing you can do but sing. This love is my everything, but nothing you can do to change the end.” Camera pans to the lyric sheet, titled “Hey There, Delilah.”

“Warsong”: A Trainspotting/SLC Punk-looking heroin junkie is getting a fix. A night of paranoia, anger, and remorse is coming in hot. An argument in the mirror shows two different faces: the junkie and his former self. The former self screams, “I want your death; you want my life!” The junkie later retorts, “All we will ever know is bitter ends, for we were born to war.”

The entirety of Songs of a Lost World follows this pattern, immersing the listener in a dreamlike sequence of imaginary vignettes. Each track works less as a standalone piece and more as part of a sprawling, emotionally charged film score. It’s an album that doesn’t just demand to be heard but invites you to close your eyes and watch the stories it tells.