Album Review: Nothing Lasts Forever by Teenage Fanclub

Nothing Lasts Forever is a pretty bleak album title. Is it full of maudlin ballads and the deafening sound of the wringing of hands? Surprisingly not. It's a little bruised and slightly world weary, but the record has a quietly positive, hopeful outlook. This album--Teenage Fanclub's twelfth--is a beautifully polished version of what they've been doing for more than 30 years.

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You might think that the mere existence of Teenage Fanclub's latest album, Nothing Lasts Forever, serves as evidence to the contrary. Has it really been 33 years since A Catholic Education? Is the dream of the 1990s still alive? It's thriving! Everywhere you look, bands from that era are not only touring but also making some of their best music. Guided by Voices, Spoon, Dinosaur Jr., The Breeders and…Phish to name a few.

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Teenage Fanclub are one of life's ever-presents – always there, always dependable, and always releasing new music. The departure of long-standing member Gerry Love presented its challenges, but 2021’s ‘Endless Arcade’ found the Glasgow-rooted group grappling with a fresh sense of evolution. This energy continues on 'Nothing Lasts Forever', a fine set of songs bedecked in arrangements that suggest subtle, yet sometimes striking breaks with the past.

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"The past's a foreign land/I did my best, you understand," runs the simple mantra at the heart of Foreign Land, the opening track here. Anyone who labours the point that this band don't recast any musical wheels is missing their purpose. For their second LP without former songwriting fulcrum Gerard Love, Blake and Raymond McGinlay are in their McGuinn and Parsons years; the country-rock songwriting tones of Tired Of Being Alone and Falling Into The Sun are rich and expansive, the themes of finding comfort and purpose in middle-age - whether through rekindled romance (I Left A Light On, I Will Love You), artificial means (Self-Sedation) or self-reflection (Middle Of My Mind) - ring true, and big emotions continue to be captured, seemingly without effort, on their canvas.

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