Letters You Can Never Burn: The Big Moon’s Forever
Austin Yagoda
Senior Editor
November 2, 2026
Somewhere in the triangle of alt-rock, British folk, and diary writing sits Forever, the newest release by London’s The Big Moon. Perfect music to look at a 6:00 PM sky to, blended instrumentals give way to words that make you transparent and as open as you’ll ever be. Put simply, this is an album written from experience. Not a single line is speculative; it is all recollective and an optimistic level above brooding.
With a love as profound and magnetic as the one singer Juliette Jackson experiences, it’s only fitting to title the opening song “Gravity.” The depth of her feeling is reflected in the most sonically diverse song on the album, as synths burst out during the chorus through an otherwise instrumentally grounded track. Jackson sings, “I’m so in love with you, I reach with my bones…To close the gap”: a closing gap anyone who’s ever felt love before is all too familiar with.
“Three Things” hurries behind, driven entirely by bubbly synths and punctuated later with a late electric guitar. Further emphasizing the shrinking distance between lovers, Jackson sings, “There were three things…forever and you and I,” as well as, “I want a wrecking ball to ride…In the windmills of your mind,” displaying the endless curiosity shared between those in love.
A letter of reassurance, “Fun” wraps you up and holds your hand until you’re alright: “Try pouring your synapses over ice…You don’t always have to be so brave.” If self-doubt ever existed in her lover's mind, Jackson melts it down in just 3 minutes and 31 seconds. To be loved by someone with her expressive ability is surely a greater gift than bearing that ability yourself.
Purple-skied and breezy comes “F.O.R.E.V.E.R.,” a song that likes to get literary and explanatory. Jackson describes the inevitability of change and everything that will fade, other than her love. She shares her sentiment: “F.O.R.E.V.E.R., That word is not long enough.” In addition to this declaration is her pure infatuation, as she sings, “When you’re feeling small, like nothing you do could make a change… I’m here being moved by every single breath you take.” Behind the words, a moody bassline and patiently steady drumming paint their part of the picture, allowing a low keyboard to drive the soft melody.
Switching to the acoustic guitar, the lyrical focus turns to what can be heard: little things that serve as reminders of life and the experience of living it. Confessing to the limits of her memory, Jackson shares, “There’s a million things I can’t put my fingers on…But it sounds like something I’ll miss when it’s gone,” as goes the experience of living and moving on.
With a smile on Jackson’s face and a smile on the instruments (if only) comes “You Remind Me That I’m Dying (and that it’s good to be alive).” Expressed best by the title is the age-old dilemma of only being able to appreciate living because it eventually ends. It is a hard feeling to swallow, but the production gives it a bright backdrop, serving as an example of what the song is trying to say. “While you sit there like a painting outgrowing its frame” provides an incredible display of attention and affection for a force so driving and life-changing.
“Speed Bump” turns the experience of life into a simple drive and pushes the importance of living through something new. With a bit of twang and shaking percussion, the song turns the hard parts of life into a nice, simple speed bump: a metaphor that can be wishfully applied to all our lives.
Beautifully honest arrives “Can I Get A Reading Please,” with the drum beating like a heart and the guitar playing a melody of uncertainty and acceptance. A deeply evocative strumming opens the song up to a confessional Jackson, eager to know her future: “Can I get a reading, please? Come on, come on, pick me…Can’t stop returning to the maybes and might-have-beens.” The eagerness and nervousness are palpable in the track, emphasized by layered vocals over the final chorus.
Leaning back onto the lover’s shoulder is “I See You, Honey,” with synths and bass creating a tenderness before the lyrics close: “No, there’s no reason to say ‘I love you’...It’s everywhere to me.” It is a final confession bursting with warmth before the closing track of the album.
“Chill” comes as a final surprise, less affectionate and more cold and pushing away. A final testament to her weakness and vulnerability with her lover, Jackson reveals: “I’m not chill, That’s just the price of the best thing that I ever did with my life…You will always be on my mind.” The lack of a rhythm section turns the finale into a somber closing note, an exposing solo of purely confessional work.
Capitalizing on masterful songwriting, Forever works as a collection of love letters, each one worn more boldly on Jackson’s sleeve than the last. The varied production deepens the relatability and empathetic effect on the listener, working seamlessly throughout. It serves as an unforgettable showcase of writing style, one that deserves far more attention. As needs to be said for a talented quartet with golden ears for what sounds just right, stronger marketing would do them wonders, as such good music does not deserve to be buried so deep.
Edited by: Jade Read
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