Forth

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.