At Horizon’s End is an expansive track that starts slowly and builds, over time revealing a hopeful narrative at the precipice of opportunity and redemption. This is a lush march of sound with Ronan Harris’ voice speaking across the vastness of space. Many of VNV Nation’s tracks historically have led the listener toward some end—a call to action, a swell of anger, an expression of love. This one is more demure and measured, with a tragic sense that reminded me a bit of New Order’s Elegia; its longing sadness between beats. There’s an inevitability captured in the pull of what my imagination and Harris’ lyrics summon, a black hole resting at the edge of possibility. The unyielding journey toward that horizon is as intoxicating as it is unavoidable.

Closing out a near-perfect album, this ten-minute track—undoubtedly my favorite—ebbs and flows with a slow, teasing tapestry of sound; the cavalcade, and a hypnotic march through darkness toward the end. Just when you’re finally convinced that it’s an instrumental, Robert Smith’s voice cuts through, revealing a heart-wrenching look back at the years mostly behind him. The message is resoundingly human; where has all the time gone? What happened to who I was all those years ago? As I approach turning 44 next month, with many questions of my own, I can’t help but feel an affinity for the contrast of darkness, playfulness, and woe that frolic within Robert’s words.