With the tremendous commercial success of UK acts Oasis and Prodigy and the critical adoration bestowed upon Radiohead's "OK Computer," music critics have been announcing the second coming of the British Invasion all year.
The Verve, whose new release "Urban Hymns" hit record stores September 30th, has achieved "next big thing" status thanks in part to a great first single, "Bitter Sweet Symphony," and also to their slightly Oasis-y sound.
The band, consisting of lead singer cum songwriter Richard Ashcroft, guitarists Nick McCabe and Simon Tong, drummer Peter Salisbury and bassist Simon Jones, is causing quite a stir in Great Britain. Their first full length album, "A Storm in Heaven," earned them immediate critical praise although it failed to set the charts on fire.
By the time their third album, 1995's "A Northern Soul," was released, the band was on the brink of something very big. Unfortunately, the Verve called it quits shortly before the release date of the record, confounding fans and music industry analysts who could not believe that a superstar band in the making was not even a band anymore.
The group now claims that the split was devised to replace their former guitarist Nick McCabe, who was unable to cope with the hectic schedule of life on the road and needed to seek help for serious depression.
Whatever the reason for the hiatus, the Verve were suddenly back together just eighteen months after they had broken up. Revamped and re-invigorated, they are now ready to conquer the world.
"We knew we were one of the most important bands in the world from when we started," Ashcroft said in the October issue of Vox magazine. Now it is time to put that claim to the test, and "Urban Hymns" is the instrument by which the validity of Ashcroft's claim will be measured.
"Urban Hymns" is starting to get college radio airplay in America, and the band's breakthrough single/video "Bitter Sweet Symphony" is currently in MTV's Buzz Bin.
Both "Symphony" and the group's second single, (not yet released in the United States) "The Drugs Don't Work," have enjoyed massive chart success in England, and the UK music magazine The Face claims that "Symphony" will do for the Verve what "Breathe" did for Prodigy and "Live Forever" did for Oasis. In other worlds, they are about to earn legions of die-hard fans and sell some serious records.
One listen to the new album, and it is obvious that anything is possible. The Verve's music is mostly straight forward rock, but they smartly-weave elements of mild psychedelia and even some lush orchestral effects ("Bitter Sweet Symphony," "Sonnet") to spice things up.
The result is music that is instantly memorable, yet not so familiar that the listener feels as if he is witnessing a very talented cover band singing someone else's hits. The group mostly sticks to crafting rock-pop that is catchy and expertly crafted.
When the Verve veer into more experimental sonic territory, the results are less compelling. The plodding "Neon Wilderness" tries to be hip and trippy, but it sure feels like a chore to listen to, especially since it comes immediately after the slinky, darkly satisfying "Catching the Butterfly." Fortunately, the song is only two and a half minutes long, so it does not inflict any serious damage on the album's flow. Otherwise, the album maintains an impressive consistency. All of the tracks save "Wilderness" register strongly, and there are no throwaways on the entire record. Impressive stuff, especially when you consider that the CD clocks in at a whopping 75 minutes.
Lyrically, the songs on "Urban Hymns" are a simple bunch, but they are sung with enough passionate conviction to compensate for the occasional lack of depth or focus.
"Lucky Man," for example, deals with freedom's effects on a man's decisions and ultimate happiness. The narrator feels possessive of his independence, yet finds that "happiness is in my mind."
Unfortunately, Ashcroft occasionally fails to connect some of his themes, making a few songs seem like a series of ideas strung together randomly. He also has a nasty habit of spouting series of filler lines like "I hope you see what I see, yeah yeah / I hope you feel like I feel" in the middle or end of some songs.
Such flaws are easily forgivable thanks in part to Ashcroft's warm vocals and to the infrequency of these occurrences.
Ashcroft has a remarkable talent for turning potentially sappy lines into emotional revelations. His voice and words give the entire album a romantic and hopeful quality that complements the group's gentle, organic sound.
Taken as a whole, the record is benign in spirit and devoid of any of the petty rock star whining, pretentiousness, or unconvincing posturing that mars the records of some of today's most popular artists.
Instead, the Verve sings and writes mostly about love, and their lack of bitterness about the subject is both charming and refreshing.
The record can be considered a celebration of the ups and downs of love, a collection of "hymns" about an inexhaustible topic. Granted, the record is not exactly earth-shatteringly original; however, it is delivered with enough finesse and sincerity to make the Verve a band worth championing.
