In a cost of living crisis, there are few better live value propositions than The Cure. Turning in a 29-song set for a fraction of the price of many other acts of a similar stature, Crawley’s finest kept fans in the warmth of Wembley’s OVO Arena for almost three hours on Sunday evening, while snow piled up steadily on the streets outside.
Joking aside, a certain artistic generosity has always been The Cure’s calling card. Now in their fifth decade as a live band, the sextet are renowned for sprawling setlists that mutate as their tours progress, thereby guaranteeing punters a unique musical experience at every single gig.
It’s entirely possible that this creative restlessness is the secret to the band’s longevity too, a hunch shown by the fervour with which they performed the third-to-last show of their mammoth, 46-date European tour.
Perhaps to preemptively dismiss any notion of The Cure as a pure nostalgia act, Robert Smith and co kicked off with the disconsolate melodicism of new song Alone, which arrived accompanied by an eerie aerial video of the Earth spinning in isolation.
Taken from their forthcoming 14th studio album, Songs Of A Lost World – the much-anticipated follow-up to 2008’s 4:13 Dream – it was the first of five fresh tracks scattered throughout the set, including And Nothing Is Forever’s cinematic shimmer and the piano-led atmospherics of I Can Never Say Goodbye, which was dedicated to Smith’s late brother, Richard.
If the new songs suggested that ideas of ageing and mortality are weighing heavy on Smith, it was backed up during Lovesong, in which he pointedly shook his head during the line, “You make me feel like I am young again.” And yet the tight-knit musicianship on display helped firmly dismiss the idea of The Cure as a diminished force. Be it Simon Gallup’s strident bassline on A Forest or Jason Cooper’s dexterous drum fills powering Push, it was an impassioned performance from a band who clearly still care as deeply as they ever did.
Breaking with – what Smith playfully described as – “the Sunday night gloom disco”, for the second encore they showcased their alt-pop credentials with transcendent versions of hits including Friday I’m In Love, Inbetween Days and Boys Don’t Cry. Arriving hot on the heels of the gothic nihilism of Faith and A Hundred Years, it felt like a totally separate, bonus set. Proof again, perhaps, of the terrific value you get as a fan of The Cure.
