The Verve - 'This Is Music: The Singles 92-98' (Virgin)
5/5
By: Toby L
The Verve; a band so meteorically intense and yearning that the very ignition of their tempestuous chemistry was enough to make and break them. Twice.
Their story, a classic rock 'n' roll one - two egos, one band, a clutch of timeless songs, and a splitting. But whereas when we perceived Phase One of The Verve being made moribund as it, the end, their return in '97 with the essential, and quite phenomenally poignant, 'Urban Hymns' was received even more eagerly than their earlier induction, prompting 'classic' status. Mesmerising, steely slide guitars from Nick McCabe; Richard Ashcroft's expansive, human voice; and the sort of northern flair and ambition that puts southern nancies all too commonly to shame. Without them, save for the rugger-buggers, Wigan wouldn't be fit for the map.
So when a band of their stature opens a 'best of' with a title so sneeringly titled as 'This Is Music', you're prepared to avoid pointing the finger; in fact, when you actually begin listening once more, you'll forgive them for anything.
If indie had ever been consigned solely to performances in churches, The Verve would have found a fitting home. Their tales of repent and searching, longing, coupled with lush backdrops of strings and samples, are hauntingly questioning, uncertain; as a unit, they ventured to pastures that contemporaries simply didn't bear the relevant legs or minds, or souls, to travel to.
Thus, recounting their musical tapestry is an all too draining one; ensure you're not operating heavy machinery or writing your will within earshot. It'll push you over the edge. But it's an edge that needs to be explored - the side of life that we all ponder, whether subconsciously, and are scared to embrace. The Verve purvey mortality and want with an admirable strength, hardly even afraid of fear itself. 'On Your Own'; 'Sonnet'; 'Lucky Man' - proof also that they could cover such sentiments without losing sight of melody. 'The Drugs Don't Work', meanwhile, the number-one, heart-breaking ode that confused us all upon its release - actually written about Ashcroft's mother, dying of cancer. The weight is incomparably pressing for such a populist act.
And anthemic they are, and remain - even still, when turned to delirious heights of volume, the pained euphoria of the strings and clanging guitars of 'Bitter Sweet Symphony' will provoke a shiver. The Verve explored strain more-so than any other in recent times, and always came out fighting on the other side. They're a success in distress story, their influence only to be told in the years to come. 'The Singles 92-98'; let it be your salvation.
Artists in this article: The Verve
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