Knights Don’t Cry: A Dungeon Synth Tribute to The Cure by Various Artists (Review)

To say that The Cure has been influential would be about as gross an understatement as one could make — musically speaking, anyway. With a catalog spanning fourteen albums and nearly fifty years, Robert Smith and Co. have helped define countless artists across a number of genres: goth, alternative, indie rock, shoegaze, industrial, post-rock, and — as evidenced by this compilation from Argentina’s Rusty Pilgrim label — dungeon synth.

Most of the covers on Knights Don’t Cry focus on the band’s earlier output, and specifically the Seventeen Seconds, Faith, and Pornography albums. Which isn’t terribly surprising; those albums’ unending gloom and synth-heavy production lend themselves particularly well to dungeon synth’s own aesthetics. To be clear, though, that’s no slight on the artists involved. Darkest Dungeons’ take on “A Strange Day,” for example, is certainly faithful and evocative in its own right, especially the ghostly piano melodies that take the place of Robert Smith’s tortured vocals.

Knights Don’t Cry’s most interesting songs, however, are those that explore other eras in The Cure’s catalog and/or deviate from the expected dungeon synth formula. Rusty Pilgrim begins the comp with — what else? — “Plainsong,” and its majestic scope is perfectly ripe for the dungeon synth treatment. Also, given that dungeon synth is usually an instrumental affair, the whispered vocals on Mørke Og Lys’ “Lullaby” are nicely spooky accoutrement.

Meanwhile, Silent Cabin’s “A Short Term Effect” actually deviates from the expected dungeon synth sounds and Owd Chicho and Crypt 3000 slowly transform “Play For Today” and “The Hanging Garden,” respectively, into medieval processionals to better match the genre’s fantastical sensibilities. And I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Wizards of Aldur’s take on “Friday I’m In Love,” which is almost — dare I say it? — whimsical, especially once the pan flute enters the mix.

Listening to Knights Don’t Cry reminds me somewhat of Princess Ghibli, a compilation of Studio Ghibli covers by various death metal artists. Both compilations are unexpected, and could be dismissed as gimmicks. But like Princess Ghibli, Knights Don’t Cry obviously comes from a place of love and admiration, and the unforeseen juxtaposition of styles results in some delightful surprises.

In other words, if you ever wished your favorite Cure songs were just a wee bit more macabre, or sounded a bit more catacomb-y — or you wished that dungeon synth displayed a bit more sonic variety — then Knights Don’t Cry will almost certainly check a box for you.