Nowhere to Go, with that gorgeous French horn at the beginning sets the tone for the rest of the album with references to the gravity of the moment where there’s Nowhere to go but down, and acoustic guitar and simple percussion lead into a wistful discussion about knowing where Nowhere Is that‘s almost jaunty as it gets into the chorus. If Only Avenue with some Duane Eddy guitar takes a rueful glance backwards (With the luxury of hindsight / The past becomes so clear / As I look out on the twilight / My days have become years). There’s a bit of the same in Snake Road ‘s reflections on past infidelity, dark days when I couldn’t keep my thoughts straight, couldn’t keep my trousers on though the narrator doesn’t sound overly regretful.
The orchestration’s back, lush and lavish on Blind Eye, Lost In Thought is likely to slip past if you were, but is rather lovely if you’re paying attention, and there’s a major statement of the Sexsmith philosophy of life on Sneak Out The Back Door ‘s portrayal of a relationship falling apart. He’s never been good at saying good-bye so there’s no surprise about his intentions. Even when my life is over / ... Give my regards to the people in charge / As I sneak out the back door with an absolute minimum of fuss.
Things are slightly more upbeat on Back Of My Hand, with chiming guitars and a Sixties Merseybeat feel. There’s a wistful melancholy retrospectivity to Deepens With Time and while he claims to be having a real good time on Me Myself and Wine the ragtime horns suggest that might not quite be the case. You can, however, count your blessings as he does on She Does My Heart Good, and there’s a zingy instrumental passage mid-song that does just that.
The album proper winds up with The Morning Light, a melancholy, melodic (no surprises there) flourish that brings things to an appropriate finish, though there are the usual bonus tracks tacked onto the end.
From the title Life After a Broken Heart might be expected to veer towards the doom and gloom but comes across as unquaveringly hopeful, but Autumn Light is pretty much as per expectation. Least of My Worries is uncharacteristically jaunty, while Real Pandora delivers a warning about desire and the possibility of lustful excess.
Assessing Forever Endeavour I’m in much the same boat as I found myself in with Richard Thompson’s Electric. Another excellent recording from an a quality songwriter who manages to consistently deliver quality, deftly poetic product.