Colin Hay Brings His Trademark Optimism to Themes of Mortality on 'Now and the Evermore'

Colin Hay, as one would expect from the man who brought us the image of strong men bearing Vegemite on “Down Under,” never takes himself too seriously. So, when I read the pre-release material for Now and the Evermore and saw he was tackling themes of mortality, my first though was “this is Colin Hay's pandemic album, and it's still going to be fun.” I was right.

The album's title track and first single sets the tone. “Nobody gets a sequel. Everyone is shown the door,” Hay croons in the gentle tone he's adopted since abandoning the over the top Aussie days of Men at Work. But, in typical Colin Hay fashion, he immediately follows with a ray of optimism; “I'll be counting on the rising sun to give me all my days until it sets upon the now and the evermore.”

As we too quietly passed the milestone of six million COVID-19 deaths worldwide (source: CDC), it's perhaps not surprising Hay would be thinking about mortality. At 68, Colin Hay's not particularly old, it's an age where you've seen a lot of friends go to “the evermore,” especially considering the weird life expectancy of rockers where, if you can make it out of the “27 Club,” you more often than not end up exceeding the average life expectancy. BB King died at 90. Mick Jagger is still rocking at 78. Even Colin Hay's pal and sometime boss in the All-Star Band Ringo Starr, who guests on the title track, is 81.

Hay's album closer, “When Does the End Begin,” touches on the emptiness of losing a friend; “we're passing all the loved and lost. Don't want to look back and count the cost.” But, again, Hay pulls the rabbit of optimism out of his hat, framing it all as a great mystery everyone gets to solve, like a detective at the end of a good mystery; “And we who live among the stars in ascension. In time surely all will be revealed. When does the end begin.”

Not everything on Now and the Evermore is a musing on death and the lead up to it. There is also album highlight “Agatha Bell” which shows off Hay's skill as a crafter of story songs. In three and a half minutes, Hay's Agatha Bell is a more nuanced character than many movie protagonists. A kind of anti-Eleanor Rigby, Bell is both a tribute to resilient optimism and a character who doesn't exactly have clean hands. At the song's beginning, Bell marries up, not to a self-made man but to the son of a self-made man, an important distinction that carries with it entitled inherited wealth. Bell's husband dies under somewhat suspicious circumstances (“Agatha said he was swept away, he was lost to the fast and freezing water”) and she doesn't appear terribly bothered by it (“please, lord, send me another. A better looking one. Make sure he's a better lover”). Still, we root for Agatha Bell's anonymous re-invention. “Agatha Bell, she ended very well. And Agatha fell in love again,” Hay assures us.

There are plenty of other songs to recommend on Now and the Evermore. “Undertow” is another wistful musing on loss. “All I See is You” has a bit of a Celtic tinge, with a marching drum that seems to indicate the man is returning from war. “Love is Everywhere” is Hay's gentle reminder that, even surrounded by death, we are also surrounded by love.

Now and the Evermore is yet further proof that Colin Hay has become an unlikely master storyteller in a world that desperately wishes to relegate him to the pile of “one hit wonder” purveyors of novelty songs, alongside people like Tone Loc and Flock of Seagulls. Hay is having none of it. Like Agatha Bell, Colin Hay has lived well and quietly become an artist whose every release I anticipate hitting my inbox.