Forster’s ninth album finds him in a happier place as he finds solace in Sweden.
The ghost of The Go-Betweens continues to hover over the solo career of Robert Forster, one half (one third really when you consider the input of drummer Lindy Morrison) of the cult Australian band along with the now deceased Grant McLennan. On their albums Forster and McLennan seemed to be joined at the hip with only a slight divergence in their song writing; vocally, they were twins. After The Go-Betweens disbanded, both forged their solo careers with McLennan’s snuffed all too soon. Forster ploughs on and “Strawberries” is his ninth solo album.
Recorded in Sweden with long time fans of The Go-Betweens (including producer Peter Morén (of Peter, Björn and John fame) “Strawberries” has much of the low key observations and muted instrumentations which characterised the band. The strident folk harmonica along with the hustle and bustle of the strummed guitars on the opening song ‘Tell It Back To Me’ is archetypal Forster (which allows one to posit that it is also archetypal Go-Betweens). Whatever, it’s a fine way to open the album with a Cohen like tale of a would be romantic encounter on a train journey while the lengthy ‘Breakfast On A Train’ is another song which could easily have sat within a Go-Betweens album as Forster extrapolates quite wonderfully on a tour he did of the UK, imagining his protagonists eventually having a tryst in an Edinburgh hotel after braving hordes of rugby fans. It’s an exceptionally clever song and perfectly delivered.
In marked contrast to Forster’s previous album, “The Candle & The Flame”, recorded as his wife was undergoing treatment for cancer, “Strawberries” is less introspective. There’s further romance on ‘Foolish I Know’, a tender take on the protagonist’s gay leanings, yearning to be held but afraid to make his move and ‘Good To Cry’, the most upbeat number here with its snarling guitar licks, comes across like a new wave number by the likes of Richard Lloyd, a sense shared with the throbbing lust of ‘All Of The Time’ although this time it’s Robyn Hitchcock who seems to be the guiding light.
There are some personal touches. ‘Such A Shame’, with its unseasonable jingle belled percussion, finds Forster debasing himself; “washed out and wasted” he sings. It’s a downbeat reflection on a life with all of its regrets on show but Forster plays it quite wonderfully, wringing beauty out of pathos. There’s a moment of levity on the title track which is a vaudevillian duet with his (now recovered) wife, a song reminiscent of Kevin Ayer’s lighter ditties, and Forster closes the album with the most diverse number on show here, ‘Diamonds’, a song which see-saws between crystalline acoustic based declarations of love and squalls of noise with thrashing guitars and wailing sax. Weirdly enough it’s also reminiscent of Ayers in his early, more experimental, days.
While Forster’s voice is not as limber as it once was, “Strawberries” shows that he remains an incisive song writer.
