Nothing Lasts Forever

Chronique

Over the course of their last few records, Teenage Fanclub has settled into a sound that has been nothing if not consistent. The midtempo gentility that has defined albums like Here could easily be ascribed to the onset of middle age and, in the case of Endless Arcade, there was even an explicit attempt to wrestle with mortality. Still, the slow-burn melancholy that has been a fundamental aspect of the band's sound since as far back as Songs from Northern Britain has notably come to dominate Teenage Fanclub's approach. And, after the 2018 departure of founding member Gerard Love—who was one of the band's three primary songwriters—it seems as if that compositional mode is the only one the band will engage in. The result is an album like Nothing Lasts Forever, which manages to be wistful and occasionally beautiful, but ultimately a bit of a slog to listen to. Opener "Foreign Land" is a solid and engaging number with a moody muscularity that would have made it a great mid-tracklist respite on earlier albums; here, it's the most energetic song, segueing into a series of languid tunes that are gorgeous (those harmonies are still intact!) but somewhat monochromatic. This approach may have made sense on Endless Arcade–the soft sadness of resignation seemed to be the point of that album–but it's disappointing here, especially since this was a band whose signature sound came from the contrast of big, chiming chords and a thick undercurrent of melancholy. With that friction gone, these well-executed songs blend together indistinguishably. (Ironically, the one song that breaks the spell is the jaunty "Self-Sedation.") Perhaps Teenage Fanclub has decided that they've found the optimum expression of their creative vision, but the end result could signal that the group is nearing the end of its natural life; Nothing Lasts Forever indeed. © Jason Ferguson/Qobuz