Kate Bush – “Never for Ever” (1980)

Better, and a critical transitional album for Kate, both musically and lyrically. Although the first two albums both had a rather theatrical bent, almost as if she were playing a part, they largely showcased her in the same role – that of a romantic Victorian girl reading arty literature and lost in the throes of teenage love. Given her age and voice, it fit pretty well too. On Never for Ever, she is far more exploratory in her fantasy, expanding on songs like Lionheart’s “Kashka from Baghdad,” and presaging The Dreaming.

Although several of the songs on Never for Ever start with the same basic elements on her previous albums, Bush uses the studio much more here in her never-ending quest to transport the listener into her world of romantic and tragic fantasy. Reading the lyrics is extremely important to understand what she is going for as well, as the music will often match the tone or content of the lyrics. When she reaches synchronization between the two, it is high bliss, like the mystical fusion guitar solo that closes out “Egypt,” indeed sending me off on a journey into lands unknown. This is also one of her most diverse records, with seamless transition between moods and songs. The segue from the comical, stomping “The Wedding List” (where Kate takes on the role of a newlywed who murders her groom) into the dissonant violin that opens the surprisingly rocking (and aptly-titled) "Violin” is one of many great examples in this regard. The single “Babooshka” would mostly fit right in on the two records, but shows her embrace of the studio with its percussion that drops in and out in the final minute. Perhaps most impressive here is the closing “Breathing,” which casts Kate in the role of a survivor of the nuclear holocaust. It starts off as a quiet lament (and with that soprano wail, Bush can always nail lament) but then drops off into near ambient noise which slowly builds while a disembodied male voice in the background reads a monologue about how to discern the size of a nuclear bomb explosion based on the duration of the flash, before ending with a powerful coda of Bush singing over a chanted choir.

Since I started my venture into the world of Kate Bush with her two best albums in The Dreaming and Hounds of Love, it took me awhile to appreciate the greatness of Never for Ever. But it is still an essential record, most notably for at least putting a rickety wooden bridge over what would otherwise seem an impossible chasm between Lionheart and The Dreaming.