(Credits: Far Out / Alamy)
Mon 9 February 2026 16:30, UK
The Cure aren’t exactly known for being optimists, quite the opposite, really.
Their aesthetic became a cultural touchstone for the gothic, harrowing, and sorrowful, with their latest release, Songs of a Lost World, cementing their legacy as one of introspective, atmospheric, mercurial soundscapes that dive into the dark ontology of the human spirit; however, despite their leanings, The Cure is actually a hugely important pop band, too.
Consider ‘Just Like Heaven’, which was written in 1987 and released on Kiss Me, Kiss Me, Kiss Me to become The Cure’s 11th top 40 hit in the UK. Take one listen and it’s hard not to smile, plus, frontman Robert Smith admitted it himself, stating in an interview that the song is one of “the best pop songs The Cure has ever done… all the sounds meshed, it was one take, and it was perfect”.
It wasn’t just the studio take that was perfect; meta-textually, the song itself insists upon perfection, because it describes, and interrogates, a notion that is one of the closest feelings we have to perfection, which is true love, devotion, adoration, as the lyrics of the song chart a conversation between two lovers.
It’s a sour truth that those who fall into the early clutches of a relationship usually fall off the face of the earth for some time, too, where the magic of intimacy, of finding solace in someone other than yourself, bursts onto the scene. Usually, a friend will go missing, wanting to spend all of their time wrapped up in the beautiful conversations with their new significant other, self-assured that, finally, it was them who had stumbled upon the true meaning of love and intimacy. Certainly, nobody had ever felt this way before.
And while an outsider can never understand, nor replicate, the specifically personal and highly subjective type of conversations you might have with the love of your life, ‘Just Like Heaven’ gets as close as possible to making the private public. “Show me, show me, show me how you do that trick / The one that makes me scream”, she said / “The one that makes me laugh”, she said / And threw her arms around my neck,” the song famously opens, and immediately, we can see them, a timeless silhouette of a couple who will, because of their universal kind of intimacy, last forever.
As poet laureate Philip Larkin once wrote, “What will survive of us is love”, and here we have Smith’s very own tale of infatuation and never-ending adoration for his partner, Mary. He gives us a way into their conversation, one of giddy repetition and meaningful promises.
As is true of many great men, Smith’s success was largely down to the love of his life, Mary, but this wasn’t some Dr Seuss tale, where Smith would steal the work burgeoning from her fingers and call it his own. Rather, she ensured that Smith stayed on the right track and reached the greatness she knew, deep down, he was always capable of. Mary constantly steered Smith toward the light, and we’re all the better for it today.
As such, every time ‘Just Like Heaven’ plays over some DIY short film or a neon-lit bowling alley, we are reminded of the joys of loving one another and looking out for one another. At a time when we communicate less and less with people face to face, and more and more with the digital interfaces of our iPhones blinking black and white text back at us, ‘Just Like Heaven’ is a giddy example of why we must continue to look up, look outwards. In that way, the track will live forever, and what will survive of us will be love.
