Forth
Eleven years have passed since The Verve released their previous album, the majestic Urban Hymns. Of course, it is a blessing and a relief to see the band return yet with their absence the scene has changed. Britpop has come and blown itself out, Simon Cowell now marshals the charts yet guitar music still has its pride of place. Though the bar has been raised by youngsters and their three minute radio-friendly hits about pulling in clubs, there will always be room for the epic, almost religious symphonies.
The question will persist; just how honest is The Verve’s comeback? Richard Ashcroft’s solo career has been temperamental to say the least; hinting at glimpses of his genius but often never quite delivering. For him and lead guitarist Nick McCabe there was always unfinished business, between themselves and their fans. Yet lingering doubts about how their second (or arguably third) coming would be received may well have been cast aside by bills needing to be paid.
As album titles go, Forth has its blatant purposes; signifying near denial of the past in favour of moving onwards and upwards. Alas, for such a legacy The Verve simply cannot disregard their heritage and even early on this sounds like they have simply picked up where they left off. Sit and Wonder becomes their incessant statement of intent, laying scepticism that the dynamics were flawed. McCabe’s sauntering guitar ably assisting Ashcroft’s confident lyrical and swaggering vocal style. Perhaps fathering two children in the intermittent years has had a delicate touch on Ashcroft’s song writing, either that or too much time watching children’s television with the triumphant lead single Love is Noise and its fanciful use of Tellytubbies mimicking eh ohs. Thankfully Ashcroft retains his subtle song writing, eloquently depicting a struggling relationship with anything from his beau to the human race in Rather Be. Rather than tie his lyrics down to particular scenarios, the beauty lies in feeding off the emotion that the melodies evoke. So far, so good.
Their penchant still remains for searing psychedelia and the album begins to stray off course, starting with the aptly titled Numbness. Moody atmospherics cannot seem to gloss over the particularly dull midpoint of the album with little to ascertain between I See Houses and Noise Epic apart from the beguiling titles, the subtle piano melody in the former and the whispered mantras in the latter. Praise should be spared for a band relevant enough to indulge in such sonic sounds capes to submerge and lose yourself in but this comes across as bland, lazy even. Valium Skies sees the band momentarily return to form, even if the title brazenly refers to certain extra curricular activities the soothing nuances remind you of a refined, sensitive Lucky Man.
By the closing reverbs of Appalachian Springs there is less a feeling of an exultant return, rather a band feeling mournful for themselves. Eleven years have passed since Urban Hymns and the music scene has evidently moved on since then, and evidently passed The Verve by.