From the first sound to the last, „Foreverandevernomore“ grabs me with horizons unknown and words (enigmatic, wondering, romantic, sorrowful, archaic) sparsely put in scene. What an album putting in perspective the end of times, disturbing and human, or should we say post-human? Fire is in its element here, from fireflies to flames and man-made hell. Not forgetting all things lost in the fire of our own lives (as far as we can remember). Sometimes, from a distance, everything (losses first, and hands still to hold) falls into place. No catchy songs, no singalongs, no fairytale searches of parallel worlds, no hooks, no future evergreens, oh, hold on, in their own peculiar way these songs which could be coined as modern day lamentations, a collection of future „everblues“ at least, striking quite a special, different note and corner in Brian Eno‘s song works. His singing has aged well, reaching out for the deeper spectrum. The voice has lost some of its playfulness. But so it goes: if some gates are closing, others open up. Every song is fuelled with a different voicing and mood: reflective, hymnal, on the verge of falling apart, persisting, sceptical. A different persona in every track. Isn‘t it wonderful, for example, that the singing one (at one, and only one time) is adressing „my love“?! The seeds of hope can perhaps be detected in the alien murmuring of the closing track. The album is haunting, uncanny, ethereal, anti-nostalgic, beautiful in a dark way, and strangely consolating (despite all its eeriness). To call the sounds of Eno and his inner circle (working here) „otherworldly“, would be a bit of a cliché. Maybe the boldness of it all lies in the collision of the intimate and the faraway, the yearning and the mourning. I think „Foreverandevernomore“ is (as Leah Kardos wrote to me), „a fantastic album, up there with his best work ever. Profoundly moving, and beautifully executed.“
