"Rolling Stone" Review of "Urban Hymns"

"New Music Express" Review of "Urban Hymns"

Laura Anne Belton's Review of "Urban Hymns"

Gavin's Review of "Urban Hymns"

"Addicted To Noise's" Review of "Urban Hymns"

From: Rolling Stone Issue 771 - October 16, 1997
3 1/2 stars out of 5

In the early '90s, the Verve were one of a gaggle of English bands playing a form of sprawling, sometimes monotonous psychedelia that overlooked hooks and choruses in favor of texture and atmosphere. Frustrated by a lack of success and the inability to get along, the Verve split up shortly after the release of their 1995 LP, "A Northern Soul." But now, after two years in limbo, the Verve have reunited and, with "Urban Hymns," crafted their strongest album to date.

Unlike their past material, which was often hypnotic but rarely melodic, the songs on "Urban Hymns" are anchored by propulsive guitar rhythms and sinuous, infections vocals. On the spacier numbers, the Verve still flutter and glow, but they no longer induce sleep; on the traditionally structured songs, they touch a tuneful, commercial nerve without ever losing their flair for innovation. The stirring "Bitter Sweet Symphony" intertwines baroque strings worthy of Pachalbel with sedated vocals and shimmering guitar lines. "The Drugs Don't Work," meanwhile, is a tear-stained ballad enhanced with sparse, nebulous horns and reverberating pedal steel guitar.

But while the music is rooted in escape, the lyrics address the need to cope. Frontman Richard Ashcroft is consumed with mortality, and on "Bitter Sweet Symphony," he sings, "Try to make ends meet, you're a slave to money, then you die." Rather than resign himself to the meaninglessness of it all, however, he seeks hope and support in love, which he expresses in "Space and Time": "Oh, can you comfort me tonight, make it all seem fine/I just can't make it alone." Trite as such verses sound, they work. "Urban Hymns" is a breathtaking venture, and ambitious balance of stargazing and worldly pathos.
-Jon Wiederhorn

THE VERVE - Urban Hymns (Hut/All formats) from NME

THEY USED to call him mad, you know. Back in the days when The Verve were making their first enthusiastic bounds into the musical arena, at a time when bands like Carter and Senser collected all the critical and commercial bouquets, the critics dubbed Richard Ashcroft 'Mad'. That was his name: Mad Richard. Funny that. Here's one of the things he said back then, in 1993, that first earned him the 'mad' nickname.

"I hate indie music."

He said that, in 1993, before Oasis had signed a record deal, when white English guitar music was about nothing else. Here's how he followed it up:

"I'm into great music. Funkadelic, Can, Sly Stone, Neil Young, the Stones. Jazz. I can name you 50 bands who are doing OK now and in two years they will be forgotten. History will forget them. But history has a place for us. It may take three albums but we will be there."

And so it proved. Four years and two albums later, nobody calls Richard Ashcroft mad any more. If his name has to be shortened he is known simply as Richard Verve now, the skinny face that owns the voice that sings the songs of the only white guitar band to seize 1997 by its neck and shake it free of complacency. Nine months and two Verve singles into the year and even history addresses Richard Ashcroft with respect.

But step back a year, less maybe, and history had canceled The Verve's reservation near the head of its table. Their last album, the epic 'A Northern Soul', was assured its legend as one of the decade's lost greats but the band had disintegrated, its two principal sources of inspiration, Ashcroft and guitarist Nick McCabe, torn apart by mental and physical burn-out. The tragedy of the piece was that a band that had put so much faith solely in the power of its own music had fallen in the end on the sword of this unrequited belief. As a nation romanced Oasis with a passion that would 've suited The Verve fine, the obituaries that greeted their demise were slim... lights dim, curtains close, four shattered northern souls grieve quietly backstage with family and friends.

Act Two, Scene One opens in a burst of blinding light to searing, joyous strings, to the sound of a 'Bitter Sweet Symphony', The Verve's first single since their split and the opening song of praise from this collection of 'Urban Hymns'. Its sheer magnificence and spirit is such that the danger of it overwhelming anything that follows it is obvious. This, after all, is the musical signature of the year for anyone not so out of love with music that they're satisfied with Elton John's bleeding heart. But 'Urban Hymns' is a big, big record. Its scope and depth is not too dented by boasting two anthems like 'Bitter Sweet Symphony' and the chart-topping, tear-jerking 'The Drugs Don't Work'. There are other peaks to be scaled ? the apocalyptic 'The Rolling People' and 'Come On', the aching odes to love setting in and breaking down on 'Sonnet' and 'Space And Time' ? and the emotional pace is largely maintained throughout, only stumbling slightly towards the end when introspection perhaps begins to fog the lens a tad. But this is a long album too ? 70 minutes, if you include the hidden track that jangles spacily like some outtake from their debut 'A Storm In Heaven' album, and echoes at its close to the sound of a baby crying ? and as such it casts a powerful spell.

Indeed, the first five songs here pound all other guitar albums this year ( bar Radiohead's 'OK Computer' ) into the ground with their emotional ferocity and deftness of melodic touch. 'Bitter Sweet Symphony's glorious rallying call to a million outsiders is met by a much more personal plea for salvation on 'Sonnet', but it's no less stinging for that. This is the sound of a man falling deeply in love and begging for some recognition of these feelings from his object of desire. "Sinking faster than a boat without a hull," moans Ashcroft as sweeping strings whip the gentle rhythm to a misty climax, "dreaming about about the day I can see you by my side... Yes, there's love if you want it".

But this mood of soft helplessness is torn apart by the ensuing 'The Rolling People', where the same army of outlanders addressed on 'Bitter Sweet Symphony' are on the march again. This time, however, they're armed with hard drugs and Kalashnikovs, and the closing freak-out sounds like the controlled explosion of the first three Led Zep albums in a metal box. Heady stuff, obviously, but with all peaks must come troughs and 'The Drugs Don't Work' captures the moment of romantic and pharmaceutical comedown with cinematic precision (rumour has it that the original demo version had Ashcroft crooning, "now the drugs don't work, they just make me worse", rather than "you", signifying... well, what Richard?).

A fifth song, a fifth speed on the emotional gearbox: 'Catching The Butterfly' roams a mystical plain last visited on their debut album and with its neon-lit, metallic guitar coda sounds like a trippy Joy Division, and it's a magnificent end to the first half of 'Urban Hymns'.

Time for an interlude. It's supplied by 'Neon Wilderness', it sounds like the start of Jeff Buckley's 'Mojo Pin' on repeat for a couple of minutes and it acts to cleanse the palate for the subtle change of mood on the second half of the record. Of the remaining seven songs only two, 'This Time' ? Marvin Gaye born in Wigan and raised on psychedelic drugs ? and 'Come On', couldn't probably be played solo on an acoustic guitar. This is possibly a legacy of the time Ashcroft spent apart from McCabe, and although it's no less affecting for that, it is an atmosphere more attuned to sitting on the sofa with a spliff than raging at the stars from the top of a hill.

Of these, 'Space And Time' is the most heart-breaking, its frank admission that a love affair is over set to an elegant strum: "We feel numb because we don't see that if we really cared and we really loved think of all the joy we'd share". It ends with Ashcroft moaning repeatedly that, "we have existence and it's all we share". A thousand rocky relationships will falter when this is played alone at home at night.

Elsewhere, 'Weeping Willow' bends majestically with melancholia and 'Lucky Man' revels in a string-fed atmosphere of self-awareness and defiance. 'One Day' casts an organ-fueled soul shadow and the fuzzy, Neil Diamond-ish 'Velvet Morning' should give Ian McCulloch fair reason to retract some of the boasts made on behalf of his reborn Bunnymen, but by a now a mood of late-night doziness has descended and some kind of tonic is required.

Enter the grande finale 'Come On', all soaring guitars, trancey rhythms and Ashcroft screaming his live calling card of "COME ON!!!!" repeatedly. This is the classic Verve move, a perfect rejoiner to past glories like 'A New Decade' or 'Gravity Grave', and the best closing freak-out of an album since The Stone Roses' 'I Am The Resurrection'.

And then, with a little hidden tingle of electric guitar and infant squealing, The Verve's best album to date closes. It'll be a source of some satisfaction to them that the depth and soul of these 'Urban Hymns' far outstrips 'Be Here Now's cold stare, and that it finally carves The Verve's name alongside that of their Mancunian peers in history's grand ledger. It insists, however, that they'll be the ones writing the next chapter. 8/10

Ted Kessler
Review courtesy of NME

Urban Hymns--The Verve by Laura Ann Belton

When asked to name a contemporary British band, most Americans list off Oasis or Blur, however, Richard Ashcroft, Nick McCabe, Peter Salisbury, Simon Jones, and Simon Tong, the members of Verve, who herald from Wigan, England, plan to change that. I got into the Verve with their second album, A Northern Soul (1995), and after I got hooked, the band split up and I wasn't sure that anything new would ever be released. To counter what I thought was history, another sad end to a truly great band, never fulfilling lead singer, Richard Ashcroft's desire to be part of the biggest band in the world. Happily however, Verve was reunited once again in March of this year, and has done some impressive things since, culminating in the release of Urban Hymns this month. Bittersweet Symphony, the first single released from UH hit number 2 in the UK charts and The Drugs Don't Work, the second single from UH went straight to number 1 in the UK charts when it was released. Neither single has received the same attention here in the USA, but the release of UH September 30 should change that. The Verve is nominated for Best Alternative Act by MTV Europe along with Radiohead, Blur, Spiritualized.

Urban Hymns is a complete departure from the early psychadelica of EP (1992) and A Storm in Heaven (1993) and the experimentation of A Northern Soul. It is most evident in the stuck-in-your-head passacaglia motif in the string section. In my opinion, starting the album off with ISSUE' was perfect, it sounds very reverential, fitting for an album named Urban Hymns. The Verve are a religion and they are converting souls through UH. ISSUE' will appeal to many people who have never heard Verve before. Youth, the former Killing Joke bassist, produced this track as well as Sonnet and The Drugs Don't Work which definitely share similarities.

For Verve fans of old, Rolling People will shake you up. The song jams and makes you want to dance and scream VERVE IS BACK!!!!!! It has a strong psychedelic feel in the beginning due to Nick McCabe's incredible guitar skills. Catching The Butterfly, Neon Wilderness, and Come On recall the more familiar Verve sound of old, a little more free form than other tracks on UH. Richard Ashcroft's vocals are playing a much stronger role on this album than those past, as heard in Space and Time, Weeping Willow, Lucky Man, One Day, and Velvet Morning.

All in all, this is an album, a very cohesive unit, and one which will bring the Verve acclaim here in the USA. It is a very different sound, not as daring as their previous albums which is going to produce mixed reactions from their long time fans. This new sound will attract more American fans though. I recommend buying this album, but Don't stop there, if you are new to the Verve. A Storm in Heaven and A Northern Soul are an essential part of your collection as well.

Verve will be playing at the Roxy theater on Nov. 1, 1997. Tickets go on sale Oct. 3 through Ticketmaster.

And yet another UH review, this one from Gavin

Well, it has finally arrived: here are my first thoughts on the first listen through...It came via a journalist friend of mine in New York who got the limited edition Hymnal packaging it is a black cardboard sleeve that has a silver band that ties the booklet together:

1. BITTER SWEET SYMPHONY- a slightly different mix (strings are intact) well we already know this one so I will move on.

2. SONNET- Hate to start on a down note but to my ears this is a bit over-produced, it is still beautiful...I do think however that Sonnet would sound a bit better if was stripped down to a more acoustic-type feel.

3. THE ROLLING PEOPLE- This is where the fun starts...killer version.....if you were worried that the soaring guitar of Nick was going to not be on this album you are dead wrong this is great and finishes with the first of many jams that stretch out the songs.

4. DRUG'S DON'T WORK- Single mix, great song.......good placement of the track.

5. CHASING THE BUTTERFLY- "In my dream I am Chasing the Butterfly" what a killer fucking lyric...this is a real gem...very dreamy song ala old school Verve....and this song goes into an extended jam as well at the end......

6. NEON WILDERNESS- Sort of a Monkey Magic meets Brainstorm with lyrics... A good song but very much an album track here.

7. SPACE AND TIME- acoustic intro into a clean solid mix of the song....it is better than the Sensation version with new lyrics at the end.

8. WEEPING WILLOW- Similar to Chasing the Butterfly has a down tempo feel to it, this album is very introspective and more serious than anything they have ever done, this song is evidence to this...

9. LUCKY MAN- A great song , killer lyrics....very personal, a mid tempo rocker with a stonesy influence throughout.

10. ONE DAY-Great organ intro- gentle guitar in the background- wow! this a totally new sound for Verve??? This is really interesting...love song.........

11. THIS TIME- another real change for Verve...this one is VERY commercial sounding but it works has a lot of samples and loops...these last two are going to be a little challenging for old school Verve fans to listen to at first....great song...weird tune!!!

12. VELVET MORNING- Another lilting love song , gorgeous tune..great vocals by Richard......probably my 2nd favorite.

13. COME ON- Time to wake up......fuck another blazing rocker ....insane jam at the end....

14. deep freeze - instrumental this right now is my favorite track on the album..very cool sounds throughout.....

Synopsis: 4 out of 4 stars........it is different...not quite the HUGE LP promised, but solid...this is album that will grow on you...........

Addicted to Noise's Review
Rating:
Orgasmic

Urban Hymns - The Verve
Virgin / Hut

The Verve's Grand Rock Move

By John Walker

Here it is: the British rock album that bigmouths such as Noel Gallagher and Ian "Mac" McCulloch wish they could have made in 1997 -- an album for which comparisons to past classics such as The Rolling Stones' Exile On Main Street, Pink Floyd's Meddle and (especially) Van Morrison's Astral Weeks are not mere corporate hyperbole but instead literal truth.

Who could have known that The Verve, who seemed to have slipped off into the void forever following their pre-crack-up/breakdown sophomore album A Northern Soul in 1995, would regroup for a "comeback" that, for once, isn't a contradiction in terms? Yet here it is, a sprawling, beautiful collection of impassioned songsmithery from the man formerly known as "Mad" Richard Ashcroft, a tag sure to be replaced from this point on by "The Brilliant."

Not that The Verve hadn't hinted at greatness in the past: I still treasure The Verve E.P. from 1992, litttered as it was with neo-psychedelic gems such as "Gravity Grave," "She's A Superstar" and the ethereal "A Man Called Sun" (from which current U.K. faves Mansun took their name). And there were plenty of inspirational moments to be found on the two previous long- players, A Storm In Heaven and the aforementioned A Northern Soul as well.

But none of that had prepared me for the truly inspired re- emergence called Urban Hymns, the perfect title for a collection of timeless songs. Here, The Verve have fashioned a paean to the life (or lack thereof) we find ourselves enmeshed within at the end of the 20th century, daring to dig beneath the superficial glitz of consumer culture to drag out the torn and tattered soul of Western man.

To put it bluntly, the first five tracks here can stand with the opening five tracks of any album I've ever heard.

The sublime "Bitter Sweet Symphony" -- based in part around a bouncy string sample from an obscure orchestral version of The Rolling Stones' "The Last Time," while also evoking the majesty of prime-era Van Morrison -- is the kind of song that you truly wish would never end, as Ashcroft, in magnficent voice throughout, sets the tone for what is to follow with some aptly ambivalent reflections on life as we know it: "Cause it's a bitter sweet symphony, this life/ Trying to make ends meet/ You're a slave to money, then you die," he sings in an inspired tone, simultaneously expressing a hate for his existence and a powerful love for it. From the opening notes, the song strikes you as among the greatest lead-off tracks in rock history.

The Verve have fashioned a paean to the life (or lack thereof) we find ourselves enmeshed within at the end of the 20th century, daring to dig beneath the superficial glitz of consumer culture to drag out the torn and tattered soul of Western man.

Of the next four, tracks two and four, "Sonnet" and "The Drugs Don't Work," and tracks three and five, "The Rolling People" and "Catching The Butterfly" form stylistic duos: the former pair are both fine non- ironic examples of what rock balladry circa 1997 should sound like, updating the torn and frayed feel of Exile On Main Street for a new generation, complete with touches of country pedal-steel twang and lilting strings. Both are exactly the kind of songs that the recent Echo & the Bunnymen comeback Evergreen desperately tried and ultimately failed to deliver.

With "The Drugs Don't Work" especially, Ashcroft has come up with a late-'90s cross between Pink Floyd's "Comfortably Numb" and the Stones' "Soul Survivor," somehow making ennui and dead-end desperation over into something spiritually uplifting. "All this talk of getting old/ it's getting me down my love/ like a cat in a bag, waiting to drown/ this time I'm coming down," he sings in what must be the most striking set of lyrics you'll hear this year. "Now the drugs don't work, they just make you worse/ but I know I'll see your face again."

Meanwhile, "The Rolling People" and "Catching The Butterfly" make a grand return to the musical terrain of The Verve E.P. and A Storm In Heaven: both are jazzy, roiling and exploratory sonic excursions reminiscent of Ummagumma Pink Floyd, as Ashcroft and guitarist Nick McCabe set the controls for the heart of sun and prove that you indeed can have your cake and eat it too. "Here we are the rolling people / can't stay for long, we gotta go," Ashcroft sings, creating an anthem for a new Beat Generation in the process.

New vistas are conjured, as The Verve renew the possibilities of rock music before your ears, refusing to concede that such things as limitations or boundaries exist.

And that's only the first five -- if there's any problem with Urban Hymns, it's that the sheer volume of great material here makes this an album that needs to be digested over time, in sections, as it were. Those who finally get past the stunning first five won't be let down, however: McCabe's eerie, ambient "Neon Wilderness," for instance, sounds like some unholy amalgam of The Stooges' "We Will Fall" and The Spacemen 3, while "Space and Time," a track which supposedly obsesses Liam Gallagher, is more fine balladry which postulates existential alienation as the main fact of our lives: "We have existence and it's all we share," Ashcroft laments as he nevertheless yearns for something higher and greater.

What's really impressive is that, as the tracks roll by, from "Weeping Willow" to "Lucky Man" straight through to the psychedelic sonic maelstrom of the closing call to arms, "Come On" (featuring the classic couplet "I must be feeling low/ I talked to God in a phone box on my way home"), they all bear up to close inspection, with no loss of quality control.

Ironically, while everyone was sitting around this year waiting for the usual suspects (Oasis or U2) to raise rock 'n' roll to new heights, it is The Verve -- the band who had been given (and had given themselves) up for dead -- who have re-emerged to unleash one of the classics not only of the year or even the decade, but of all time.

Long may they roll.