Part of the ensuing get together was subsequently released as a free download, knowingly entitled The Thaw Sessions. It found a group sounding loose limbed and full of renewed vigor, but in its fourteen plus minutes, there was little for devotees of Urban Hymns to immediately identify with. By the time Glastonbury curator Michael Eavis acquiesced to Ashcroft's prophetic demands and awarded them with the this year's closing headline slot, sheer momentum dictated that, despite an almost incomparably familiar repetoire, the finale would be a new song "Love is Noise" rather than one of their trophy cabinet full of one size fits all anthems.
Here then was the fulfillment of The Verve's destiny - playing their music to the widest audiences possible, fans and curious alike, all soon to be re-caught up in the band's cosmic undertow. Other festival appearances followed, each seemingly more grandiose and triumphant than the last, but already rumours began to brew up in their wake. By the recent V festival, whispers were of bust ups in Japan and demands for a separate dressing room. All probably lies - but for Ashcroft and McCabe especially, it came with the territory.
Typically counter cyclical, the punningly titled Forth arrives at the end of a big touring stint. The Verve big top was once again open for business and reassuringly it was full of things that aren't really what they seem. As I previously hinted, it's probably appropriate now for those who fell for the charms of Urban Hymns, but have no desire to reach back beyond that, to pretty much stop reading here.
Ok. For the six of you left reading, let's continue.
The first thing that hits you is the realization that this is a band record. Ashcroft messianic zen seems subdued throughout, content to be a foil to McCabe's wall of sonic trickery, voice frequently left to wander down in the mix. Opener "Sit And Wonder", clocking in at just under seven minutes, freewheels understatedly, an evident result of a recording process which involved whittling down the band's nebulous existentialism, but still content not to get bound up in too much structure. Ashcroft speaks of crawling into a black hole and then begs for light throughout, further proof, in any were needed, that Forth is far from a belated shot at Snow Patrol's excruciatingly dull, but worthy, status as Christmas stocking filler du jour.
There are a handful of familiar totems for the class of '97 to groove to, but out of context the only conclusion to be drawn from the presence of the linear, expectation meeting "Love Is Noise" is that it's simply an airplay friendly horse of Troy.
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