With a career spanning three decades and dozens of albums, it would be hard for The Cure to condense themselves into the hour-and-a-bit you usually get from touring bands. But where other bands would have turned themselves into greatest hits packages, Robert Smith and his band are touring a three-hour spectacular, leaving few stones unturned.

As the barn-like stadium filled and as the clock ticked towards 8pm, the topic on most fans’ lips was how the band would fill the promised three hours. Would they take the Roger Waters approach and play one (or more) albums from start to finish a la the Trilogy gigs in Berlin? Would they start back in the late ‘70s and bring us through to the present day? Or would they play the entire set spontaneously, without the aid of a setlist? But aside from opening with Open and ending with End – both from 1992 album Wish – and a sizeable bracket of early material in the closing minutes, there was no distinct structure and nothing predictable about the band’s set.

After the euphoria of those opening minutes evaporated with the final chords of Open, the ability of Smith, Porl Thompson (guitar), Simon Gallup (bass) and Jason Cooper (drums) to deliver just what is required showed through, signalling the start of something truly amazing with Fascination Street. Though the first half-dozen tracks suffered from a less-than-reliable mix, perhaps the most recognisable of Gallup’s trademark basslines shook the floorboards and the rafters of the poignantly-named concert venue. Continuing the early theme of big guitars and psychedelic soundscapes, Thompson and Smith seemed to relish the freedom of playing without the presence of keyboards and synthesisers to box them into any one role. Though there was the occasional moment in which the band noticeably lacked the contribution of synth man Perry Bamonte, Thompson’s guitars were always quick to fill the void or, in some cases, reshape those parts into something completely new.

Though there may have been the occasional filler track – the worst of these being The End of the World from 2004’s lacklustre eponymous LP – the performance flowed from one part of the band’s career to another with embarrassing ease. The Disintegration triple of Lovesong, Pictures of You and Lullaby teed things up ideally for Hot Hot Hot and Push, while the acoustic-driven bracket of Inbetween Days, Friday I’m in Love and Just Like Heaven came as naturally as ever for Smith, with Thompson jumping between lead and rhythm guitar parts effortlessly.

But by no means was musicianship the sole reason for the show’s massive impact. It almost goes without saying that the four men on stage – all of whom have been involved on/off with the band for decades – would have no trouble filling their roles. As the band executed every chord and every beat without flaw, the huge screens and lighting setup behind them gave the show a visual element like nothing else. As the main section of the performance edged towards its close, the ear-splitting guitars made a return, this time accompanied by abstract visuals on 10’ video screens and blazing lighting of all colours, making it near impossible to avoid being overwhelmed by The Kiss, Shake Dog Shake and Us or Them.

With more than 45 minutes of the promised three hours still to go, it came as some surprise that the closing duo of 100 Years and End came shortly after 10pm. But with the stage set for more of the same, it was inevitable that Smith, Thompson, Gallup and Cooper had a lot of tricks up their collective sleeve. Playing three encores, the band worked through just about everybody’s checklist. Play for Today. A Forest. Close to Me. Why Can’t I Be You?. The list goes on. And though they still managed to avoid playing anything from 2000’s Bloodflowers, the album that last brought The Cure to Australian audiences, very few seemed to care as the hits kept coming.

There was a very obvious nod to The Cure’s early days when the final encore brought the crowd full circle, back to 1979. Emerging for the last time, Smith once again maintained eye contact with the front rows as he and Thompson revisited Three Imaginary Boys, followed by the now anthemic Fire in Cairo. The last of the night’s huge sing-alongs came with Boys Don’t Cry, but, while that pushed them over the three-hour mark, there was more to come. With Jumping Someone Else’s Train, the video screens took the crowds on a journey through England’s south, while one couldn’t help but wonder whether they’d got their timezones wrong, as they dropped 10.15 Saturday Night right on 11.15. Again, they could easily have left at that point, but there was one last wag in the tail with Killing an Arab, their first single from back in 1978. The crowds on the floor pressed forward while those at the back stood on their seats for one last dance, bringing to an end what can only be described as an amazing night.