I love how artists can emerge, reinvent themselves, fade, and then return. Back in February 2007, I reviewed The Frames’ album The Cost. That same year, lead singer Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová found success with the film Once, and by 2008 they were on the Oscar stage, winning Best Original Song for Falling Slowly. At the time, I never connected the dots. In fact, The Swell Season had already released a self-titled album in 2006, which included their Oscar-winning song. They followed it up with Strict Joy in 2009, and then, like Indie Launchpad, fell silent. And now, here we are in 2025, sixteen years later.

The album "Forward" is relatively short at just eight tracks, but it feels like chicken soup for the soul. Sixteen years may have passed, yet Glen's voice still carries that same comforting, emotional rawness the moment you hear the opening track, "Factory Street Bells". Adding to the impact are the wonderful violin accompaniment and the swirling, beautiful backing vocals, which elevate the song’s emotional charge.

Very much a traditional duet, "People We Used To Be" opens with Markéta's fragile, tender vocals in the first verse, joined by Glen in the chorus. Glen then takes the lead on the next verse, before the two return for a couple of iterations together. A wonderful instrumental break follows, leading back into the chorus to close the track. This may sound like a fairly pedestrian description, but the performance is charged with emotion and, simply put, wonderful.

Previous history can sometimes make you read too much into a track, which can be a dangerous thing. With "Stuck in Reverse", I don’t believe there’s any hidden meaning, just an artist drawing on past experiences to craft a powerful statement. The verses ache with raw emotion, frustration, and longing, and I imagine many listeners will connect with the lyrics, especially the line: "Can we go backwards, back to the days before the wheels came off?".

And just when you think the emotions can’t be pushed any further, along comes "I Leave Everything To You". Markéta’s voice is soft and fragile, carrying a hopeful tone yet shadowed by uncertainty, like the delicate building of an emotional house of cards. Each note feels carefully placed, always on the edge of collapse, which makes the performance all the more affecting. The restraint in the arrangement allows her voice to sit at the centre, creating a moment that feels intimate, vulnerable, and quietly devastating.

I love the way their vocals both counteract and balance each other. It may sound like a contradiction, but that’s exactly how it feels when listening. With "A Little Sugar", Glen’s vocals seem to ease the weight left by the previous track. They aren’t upbeat or particularly joyful, but there’s a calm reassurance in his delivery, a sense that, despite everything, things will be OK.

We come to another biographical, feeling track with "Pretty Stories", which paints a picture of reflection, heartbreak, and a longing for reassurance. Once again, Markéta takes the lead, her vocals calm yet heavy with emotion, supported by a delicate piano line that sets a fragile foundation. As the song unfolds, emotive strings swell in, and Glen’s harmonies weave around her voice, adding depth without overshadowing it. The result is a track that feels intimate and confessional, yet cinematic in its quiet intensity.

With "Great Weight", things take a decidedly different turn, opening with a predominantly woodwind introduction. There’s an immediate sense of familiarity in the track, something about the meter of the lyrics and the way they unfold feels like I’ve heard it before, as if it were a reworked reinvention of something half-remembered. I even found myself mentally trying to insert other lyrics, almost as though I were testing it for authenticity. Then, while making a coffee, it hit me. Leonard Cohen. I replayed the song, and just imagining Cohen singing, a little slower, made everything click into place. I’m not hinting at any kind of plagiarism, this is simply an example of how songs can evoke different associations and emotions for different listeners.

I think being in that frame of mind when "Hundred Words" began is why Kate Bush leapt into my consciousness. There’s certainly a comparison, but it faded as soon as Glen’s vocals joined, and the track quickly became its own entity. For me, it’s probably the weakest of the album’s tracks, but that doesn’t make it a bad song, just not as strong as the rest in my view.

I love how two people can come together and create musical magic. Even after such a long gap between releases, they reunited and that same magic is still very much alive. It’s wonderful to see them back, and the music world is all the richer for it.