Forth

Forth proves that The Verve still has it, and it's all about chemistry.

This album is probably the most solid foundation this quartet have had in 15 years, and it would be a disaster if it wasn’t a springboard for several more.

Forth certainly makes it seem like they’ve never been away, the stench of those woeful Ashcroft solo albums extinguished.

The songs skirt standard verse-chorus form; the best of them are just chord patterns that swirl and mutate with slow assurance.

Forth may contain a few flaws or forced moments, but it has plenty of soul.

Are the Verve back? Maybe. Definitely.

Forth is classic Verve, epic in scope, with layer upon layer of sound.

Forth not only equals the Verve's best work, but in many cases exceeds it.

Time and place be damned, this is a good record, but it will never be anyone’s favorite.

This belated follow-up doesn't have anything as memorable as "Hymns'" 'Bitter Sweet Symphony.' But the soulful single 'Valium Skies' come close. [22/29 Aug 2008, p.125]

Forth is that rare comeback record--unafraid to show its age, and better for it. [Sep 2008, p.85]

While Forth is certainly flawed and overreaching, there's enough to suggest that the Verve, assuming they're able to keep it together, can use the album as a foundation for something as compelling as their '90s output.

In some ways the Verve feels more familiar now than it did a decade ago.

Forth is a decent reminder of what makes the Verve great.

This comeback album (after eight years apart, the group reunited in 2007, triumphantly claiming the Coachella main stage this spring), is as solid as a dose of Extra Strength Tylenol.

Men out of time, The Verve were a neo-psychedelic jam-rock outfit who got fortuitously swept up in the Britpop boom and stumbled upon a timely form of Big Music.

Their second reunion carries the listener a good third of the way into this punningly titled fourth album. Trouble is, the second two-thirds are a very long slog indeed.

Forth is a good, but not great Verve album, then, its glimmers of brillance all too brief. [Sep 2008, p.98]

Just as Forth shares the strengths of those early albums, it proves that the Verve are yet to grow out of their shortcomings.

Admittedly, the band's past catalogue sets the bar high, but Forth is an achievement, especially when considered in the context of so many failed attempts by others to return after a period of inactivity.

For the first four tracks, The Verve dig deep into their chaotic history to conjure the strange, intoxicating mix of stridency, shimmering beauty, pretension and vulnerability that made them so distinctive back in their pomp. And then the plot is suddenly lost, along with the tunes.

It's pleasant, even comforting, which makes Forth as pure a sequel as possible: it's an album that offers more of the same many years too late, which will be enough for the legions of faithful who have waited to hear all the old characters back together again, yet seems a little pointless for those who no longer remain quite so invested in the band.

Forth is the sound of a band shaking off ten years worth of rust. [Fall 2008, p.85]

Just how often you'll revisit Forth after the initial flush of interest is debatable, because it hasn't really moved things anywhere for them.

In 1997, this kind of thing--crisp, echoing guitars, provincial strings, existential moodiness--actually sounded kind of exciting. Just over a decade later, though, the exact same recipe, prepared exactly the same way, conjures up new dominant aftertastes: false profundity, compositional laziness, and outsized egos.

The tracks on Forth are long and often overproduced. It’s a tough blow to handle when a band you’ve loved for so long comes up so short.