Live review: The Cure deliver incredible marathon set of murky ballads and pop gems at Leeds First Direct Arena

With that opening remark from The Cure’s distinctive frontman Robert Smith the band’s penchant for delicately balancing the bleak with the beautiful is laid bare.

The iconic Sussex group channelled this throughout their set at Leeds Arena, delving deep into their catalogue of lugubrious alt-rock wig-outs for a large portion of the impressive two and a half hour set before delivering a finale of shimmering pop masterpieces.

The show was enjoyed from the comfort and vantage point of The Mixer – a newly opened 40-capacity exclusive area that can be booked out by groups to mingle and enjoy performances with all-inclusive drinks and dishes of food. How much I’ll enjoy live music going forward without lemongrass-infused prawns, red wine and a cheese board I don’t know.

The night opened with a brilliant set from Scottish group The Twilight Sad, whose intense, feverish tracks are elevated by scuzzy guitars, pulsating drums and singer James Graham’s accented vocals.

The Cure open things with one of five new tracks performed from their anticipated 14th album Songs of a Lost World, all of which fit comfortably alongside the rest of their wildly varied but distinctly-them songs; a variety that has their Venn diagram overlapping with the likes of The Smiths, Joy Division, The Fall, My Bloody Valentine, Pet Shop Boys and The Human League.

Pictures Of You and Lovesong from their sublime landmark album Disintegration give an early lift before the set goes to the murkier crevices of their discography. While the lack of movement in the 13,000-capacity arena suggests some might be itching for those mass singalongs, Smith’s abnormally pure vocals – which belie his claim that he had come down with an illness – and the band’s tantalising trade off of delicate guitar riffs and sweeping synth liens creates has an enchanting effect. And if the sound coming from the stage isn’t enough, the site of the electric haired and all-in-black frontman meandering across stage and Simon Gallup pummelling into his mostly-static colleagues – all while his bass hangs closer to the floor than to his midriff – is engrossing enough.

The somnambulant state is shaken with the euphoric Push before the lights – which are used to great effect within the minimalist stage setting – are dimmed green and purple for the brooding A Forest, an undeniable highlight that lulls in stuttered clapping to Gallup’s bassline as the song withers out.

The first set ends with new track Endsong, which invokes a trance-like state with its extended drum intro, before the band return to open the first encore with another new one in I Can Never Say Goodbye; a moving tribute to Smith’s late brother where he states “Something wicked this way comes, to take my brother’s life” over a desolate piano line.

The heartfelt Plainsong and cataclysmic Disintegration – which sees Smith yelping “The end is always the end” – close the second set before the keenly awaited release of unbridled joy is unleashed when the group return to play the jangly Friday I’m In Love, bumbling Close To Me and In Between Days, where the opening line of “Yesterday I felt so old I felt like I could die” lands like a call-back to Smith’s opening remark of the night. A jubilant Boys Don’t Cry closes things before Smith stays to bashfully take in the rapturous reception from the crowd – now all on their feet – in a moment that many an eye welling up.