VEINS – A New Forever

VEINS – A New Forever
Self Release
Release date: 05/06/26
Review by: Jon Deaux
7/10
VEINS has created an album that actually affects you, which is pretty remarkable since most first albums only serve to make you want to hit the skip button. After listening to this album my therapist instantly upped her prices.

The debut album of VEINS will make you instantly want to smoke a cigarette indoors, despite not being a smoker and despite there being several UK fire regulations against doing that. The reason is, of course, that ‘A New Forever’ will make you desperate. There’s so much atmosphere, so much anguish, and such emotional devastation contained in this album that you’ll likely be eligible for some governmental assistance upon hearing it. This is the result of work by three musicians coming from the depths of Corby, staring into an abyss and realizing it owns a pedalboard.

Fair play to them. At least, they committed themselves to their artistic process.

As modern alternative rock bands tend to produce an overwhelming majority of works characterized by the fear of authenticity, the debut album of VEINS stands out in more ways than one. Whereas nowadays there is a bunch of alternative musicians desperately trying to avoid seeming sincere and vulnerable, VEINS scream straight into an abyss with no regard for their well-being. They tear down doors and yell into the emptiness like they want to fistfight their seasonal depression right there, in a Vue cinema car park.

Exhausting, ridiculous, but often brilliant.

There’s no easing into A New Forever’s world. The album starts off like somebody reading their suicide note through a Marshall stack of amps. With ‘Criminal’ kicking off the record, there’s little chance of anything gentle and tender in VEINS’ work. Huge guitars fight each other while Stevie Rees sings about his struggle to come to terms with his life and its problems. There’s nothing subtle about this album. Nothing polite.

The next song on the album, ‘Reign Down,’ is equally dramatic. VEINS are aware of the fact that heaviness should not necessarily imply distortion. Their songs are always on the brink of imploding. They sound scary, regardless of whether it is a quiet passage or a screaming one.

Then, there are the climaxes.

They do not build tracks. They stage hostage situations.

Every track on this album has its moment when the guitars swell, drums explode, and Stevie sounds like he is on the verge of transcendence or a serious mental breakdown. And that’s what makes this record truly beautiful and magnificent. Hearing it is just like watching somebody dramatically taking off their wedding ring in the rain despite having never been married.

Speaking of marriages, the name “I Keep Falling” perfectly characterizes the album. The listener will feel the smell of cold pavement and stale beer, while it is impossible not to recognize the internal monologue of a man spending their nights alone in front of a kebab shop, thinking about whether love exists or it is only about electrolytes.

But then ‘Ambi’ appears. This is the song that reminds us why VEINS started gaining recognition in the first place. It is still huge – tense, scary, and dangerous. Contrary to many bands nowadays, they know that atmosphere implies menace rather than terminal boredom. The song doesn’t drift. It stalks. The guitars hum in anticipation of a storm while the whole track is only one emotional blow away from implosion.

That is precisely the difference between VEINS and the endless number of other miserable Spotify-core bands clogging up the internet with their stuff. Most of them create music trying to emulate “cinematic” vibes without realizing that true atmosphere should also imply menace and uncertainty. On the contrary, VEINS’ music is unstable, human, and relatable.

But why?

Because this album would be unbearable without its commitment to the idea of devastation. There’s not a single hint of irony here. Nothing suggests there is a safety net for the musicians and the listeners. VEINS sincerely mean every second of the record with the terrible sincerity, while Stevie Rees sings about hopelessness and hope like somebody who has stared into an abyss and seen darkness and light from two separate ends of the same room.

‘Sunlight’ is when everything falls into place. The record stops posturing itself and suddenly becomes painfully honest. Written about watching someone suffer from depression while trying to be a source of support, it reflects real emotional fatigue instead of some cosplay despair, which is often the case with alt-rock bands.

The build-up is superb. Gentle and restrained at the beginning, it quickly transforms into an enormous aching crescendo, which feels truly worthy instead of just being loud. When the climax comes, however, it is not triumphant; it is temporarily survivable. This is VEINS at their best: the music recognizes that sometimes hope is not a Hollywood-style happy ending, but rather an attempt to get through Thursday without smashing your own teeth in the toilets of Wetherspoons.

Naturally, the album is capable of going up its own ass.

Sometimes spectacularly so.

Around its mid-point, there are occasional moments when A New Forever starts resembling a never-ending perfumed advert. The atmosphere becomes so thick it can be smeared on toast. Songs melt into one another in waves of reverb, melancholy, and guitars drenched in delay. You start longing for someone – anyone! – to drop their microphone stand just to release the accumulated tension. Two subsequent songs, ‘Everlasting Games’ and ‘Suddenly Revived,’ drift dangerously close to the edge of something like GCSE poetry-core.

At certain moments, you are almost expecting somebody to start whispering about broken angels, empty halls, and oceans symbolizing grief. It is the music for men owning three rings, a chain necklace, and a notebook filled with texts sent to their exes.

However, despite being extremely indulgent, their attitude towards their suffering is oddly admirable. They do not show any self-awareness, any irony, or distance. There are simply three people who are completely dedicated to the creation of enormous walls of sound, battering emotional devastation into those walls since they cannot visit the therapist. At least, not until the waiting list ends.

But they still manage to back it up musically.

Scott Warner takes care of the bass, providing the album with its rhythm, whereas Dan Appleyard drums as if he is trying to escape from the songs. Production values are high despite the absence of excessive polishing associated with American radio-rock. Instead, they are British, cold, and tangible. You can hear the weather, the weather you’ve probably heard somewhere in Corby. You can even smell the mold on the walls of a rehearsal room.

When ‘Champions Fall’ finally closes the album, you feel emotionally sandblasted. Not uplifted per se; after all, VEINS are aware that survival is not about overcoming something; it is rather about dragging it behind yourself without letting it control your decisions.

This is what ‘A New Forever’ is capable of doing despite all its excesses. Beneath the theatrics, gigantic crescendos, and an overwhelming amount of emotional despair, there is something truly ordinary and relatable hidden. The problem is – surviving can be incredibly dramatic.

Which is great.

But also, exhausting.
Track listing:
01. Criminal
02. Reign Down
03. I Keep Falling
04. Ambi
05. Pulling Teeth
06. Sunlight
07. Everlasting Games
08. Suddenly Revived
09. Atoll K
10. Champions Fall

https://ditto.fm/i-keep-falling-veins
https://linktr.ee/veinsbanduk

Disclaimer: This review is solely the property of Jon Deaux and Ever Metal. It is strictly forbidden to copy any part of this review, unless you have the strict permission of both parties. Failure to adhere to this will be treated as plagiarism and will be reported to the relevant authorities.