MON., APRIL 28, 2008
eMusic Q&A: Robert Forster
by Jack Rabid
When Grant McLennan died suddenly of a heart attack at age 48 on May 6, 2006, he left behind more than his family and thousands of grieving fans. He also left a close friend of thirty years — songwriting foil and Go-Betweens bandmate Robert Forster. McLennan's death ended one of the greatest literate, expressive pop groups in modern history, and forced Forster back to the solo career he’d pursued from 1989-2000, the 11 years the band was defunct. Forster's first LP after the demise of his lifelong pal couldn't help but be raw and emotional, shot full of poetic poignancy.
Sure enough, The Evangelist fits that expectation. It’s everything and more of what you’d anticipate, expertly and finely rendered. Though the album takes the time at the start (the forlorn opener “If it Rains”) and at the end (the crushing, wounded piano-weeper “From Ghost Town”) to somberly mark McLennan's passing, in between The Evangelist is celebrating that life rather than mourning it. It’s a eulogy of appreciation rather than an interment dirge. In embracing all that his former friend meant to him, Forster has not only made his finest solo LP since 1990’s Danger in the Past, but has made one that reverberates with the joy and sweetness of his best recordings. It’s full of simple, less-is-more, redacted guitar pop songs born of melodic sureness, the spice of lyrical sincerity and an immense depth of feeling. It also includes a trio of songs that represent the last fruits of Forster and McLennan's collaboration — one of which, “Let Your Light In, Babe,” is peppy enough to have been from the Monkees’ catalog. Quite simply, it's one of 2008’s best albums thus far.
The level of Forster’s regard for his fallen comrade remains palpable. And he’s justifiably proud of his new work, expressing a small level of astonishment over the album and how “From Ghost Town” in particular felt guided by an unseen hand. But The Evangelist is also the deliberate work of a wizened veteran who knew instantly what he wanted to achieve at this juncture of his life.
Forster kindly took time out of a recent New York promo visit, all the way from his native Brisbane, Australia, to tweak his label’s exaggerated claims about his alleged reluctance to ever record again (read on), and to otherwise discuss his moving new work. He met up with eMusic contributor and Big Takeover founder Jack Rabid over tea at SoHo’s Housing Works Bookstore Cafe.
This year is the 30th Anniversary of the start of your career in the Go-Betweens.
It is, 30 years this year! [Jack whistles] I know, I know. Everyone says this, but it’s gone by very quickly. And it doesn’t really feel like this large white hole, do you know what I mean? I haven’t gotten any large patches of it that I disown. It all feels quite one story, one line.
In fact, the last time I interviewed you was for Warm Nights, your last solo album, 12 years ago. Long time.
Right. The Evangelist is an unexpected solo album, given the circumstances and 12 years.
You may never have made another one, for all you knew...
That’s entirely true, yes.
How did this all set in motion? Your press release said it was touch-and-go about whether you were ever going to make another record ever. If so, what made up your mind? What was the door opening?
No, no! I was always going to make an album. It was always my intent. Look, Jack, if even just to get out the Grant songs on the record — he and I were playing those songs. I wanted to make a record if only to get those three out to the world. “Demon Days,” “Let Your Light In, Babe,” and “It Ain’t Easy.” They’re the three that he had the music and the choruses to, and I’ve written the lyrics to, except the first five lines of “Demon Days” are his. The only thing is, I probably made the record a year earlier than what I thought it would be. Besides that, I always wanted to record.
I knew I’d record, I just had to find my way out of the shock and the grief.
So there wasn’t any doubt in your mind that you would?
No, not a second.
So wait a minute! Is your label’s press release lying? [laughter] [The press release begins: “After the death of Grant McLennan, Robert Forster was unsure if he would ever record again.”]
It’s one of those things that slipped into press releases. Or, I don’t know where it is, I find these things all the time.
Somebody wanted to heighten the drama?
Yeah, look, this is what they want to do. They put this stuff out that’s not true, and I have to bear the consequences.
It’s like the Spielberg version. If it tells a better story, actual history be damned!
It is. Spielberg was the first record publicist, probably. But I had some songs written, already. I had “Did She Overtake You.” I mean, why on earth would I not want to make a record? Yes, after Grant died, I was in shock, and I was stunned, you know? But I knew I’d record, I just had to find my way out of the shock and the grief and just… I didn’t start playing with Adele [Pickvance, bassist] until like eight months after he died. It just took about that much time to do some songwriting. I was just very much within myself. And then I just phoned her up and we started playing. That was in February last year. But for seven or eight months, I was just taking my time. I’d just go to her place on Fridays and we’d just sit down and slowly I’d play her the songs.
Did being solo again change the way you write?
No, I don’t think it did. I knew that the album was going to start with “If It Rains.” The Go-Betweens’ albums, when we walked into the studio, I had to no idea what it was going to start with, ‘cause you just never knew. You’d record the songs and then it would become apparent. Whereas with this, I knew where it was going to start and where it was going to go, which was enjoyable, again, given the whole circumstances with Grant passing away. But it was enjoyable to go back and have complete control, and maybe that comes from the album. Maybe you can hear that.
The thing I noticed was that anyone expecting a straight-up funereal record didn’t get one.
[moved] Great. That’s good.
It’s like you took all the emotion in different directions.
That’s true. I knew that I had to face the changes, but I didn’t want it to be too heavy, too one-themed. There were songs I had written before Grant died, anyway.
One of the things we talked about when last we met was about your enduring friendship with Grant. It was before Go-Betweens had reformed, and I mentioned how I’d seen Grant play a solo gig and perform your song “Clouds” — quite a tribute. The bond between he and you had survived the band’s breakup; in fact, your relationship with him had nothing to do with the band splitting up. You were friends for life.
I can remember you telling me. I was really touched!
Grant was a melody machine!
So when I heard you were recording, The Evangelist I thought, “Oh man, that must be so hard for him.” After losing a lifelong friend, let alone your musical mate for 30 years.
Yeah, definitely. But I’m really glad you said it didn’t feel too funereal. That’s good, that’s really good. Without me thinking about it too hard, this album came to me naturally — the balance I had to strike. But I was very aware that I had to get that balance right! I didn’t want just one deep, dark tone. I’m sure he didn’t want me… Always at the back of my mind, was that Grant’s great love was pop music, so I wanted to keep the pop elements there. If anything gets poppy, go for it. Almost in some sort of tribute to him.
Right, in the Go-Betweens catalog, he was usually the one going for the big melodic flourish.
He was. He was a melody machine! That, and the sense of melancholy — you can’t get away from that. That was in his lyrics, always. There are two things that stick in my mind: the melody and that lyrical melancholy tone.
Though some of the stuff he wrote on this LP, like “Let Your Light In, Babe” is upbeat and friendly! Which might surprise some again expecting an LP full of mourning.
Yeah, he wrote the melody and the chorus, and I wrote the verse words for that, and that’s a song that we practiced as a full band. He had had that song for awhile, with a mandolin.
Well, you were talking about a melancholic streak in Grant’s writing, I’ve seen one in yours as well, like my favorite, “The House That Jack Kerouac Built,” and certainly “Part Company.” On the new record, [the closing] “From Ghost Town” is the shattering track where one really feels your loss.
I know, I know. That was the last song I wrote for the album, and it really overwhelmed me! You know? The melody, and it was a difficult lyric to write. I wrote about three drafts of it, but it was an enormous song to write. I personally haven’t almost taken the implications of it yet… [choking up a little] I mean, if we’re to play it live in whatever form… it will be amazing.
Will it almost be too emotional to do?
Almost! But once I start it, I know we’ll get through. But it’s… It’s one of those really good songs just on the outer limit of what you can imagine you can do. To write a very compact six-minute song, which is long for me, and to hold it all the way through, it feels to me quite classic. I can imagine a lot of people singing that song. I wasn’t looking for a song; I thought the album might just have nine. And so, that it came, was just… overwhelming.
Like someone else wrote it, and you’re covering it?
It feels very much like that.
One of those songs like “Yesterday” or “Satisfaction” that almost wrote itself?
Yes, it is. It came very, very quickly. And normally I don’t write anywhere near that speed, and it just really amazed me. It’s like a painter who notches up a really big painting when they’re 50. When I played it to Adele, she knows my work well, and she said, “You’ve never written anything like that before.” She was overwhelmed, too. I wanted to record it first on the album, that’s how proud of it I was!
Although there’s definitely touches on this record that remind me of some of your older Go-Betweens work. “If It Rains” sounds something like an amalgamation of “Part Company” and “The Clarke Sisters.”
I wanted to start the album, it couldn’t start with a pop song. I knew we wanted to start with something at least to acknowledge what had happened. But not in perhaps a direct way, but just in a sonic tone way. Are you’re talking about the melody?
No, the overall feel. It’s elegiac. A kind of sweetness to it.
But that’s always something that I’ve had. It’s in your DNA, and you just follow it. I’ll keep following it for, maybe another 30 years.
Sure enough, The Evangelist fits that expectation. It’s everything and more of what you’d anticipate, expertly and finely rendered. Though the album takes the time at the start (the forlorn opener “If it Rains”) and at the end (the crushing, wounded piano-weeper “From Ghost Town”) to somberly mark McLennan's passing, in between The Evangelist is celebrating that life rather than mourning it. It’s a eulogy of appreciation rather than an interment dirge. In embracing all that his former friend meant to him, Forster has not only made his finest solo LP since 1990’s Danger in the Past, but has made one that reverberates with the joy and sweetness of his best recordings. It’s full of simple, less-is-more, redacted guitar pop songs born of melodic sureness, the spice of lyrical sincerity and an immense depth of feeling. It also includes a trio of songs that represent the last fruits of Forster and McLennan's collaboration — one of which, “Let Your Light In, Babe,” is peppy enough to have been from the Monkees’ catalog. Quite simply, it's one of 2008’s best albums thus far.
The level of Forster’s regard for his fallen comrade remains palpable. And he’s justifiably proud of his new work, expressing a small level of astonishment over the album and how “From Ghost Town” in particular felt guided by an unseen hand. But The Evangelist is also the deliberate work of a wizened veteran who knew instantly what he wanted to achieve at this juncture of his life.
Forster kindly took time out of a recent New York promo visit, all the way from his native Brisbane, Australia, to tweak his label’s exaggerated claims about his alleged reluctance to ever record again (read on), and to otherwise discuss his moving new work. He met up with eMusic contributor and Big Takeover founder Jack Rabid over tea at SoHo’s Housing Works Bookstore Cafe.
This year is the 30th Anniversary of the start of your career in the Go-Betweens.
It is, 30 years this year! [Jack whistles] I know, I know. Everyone says this, but it’s gone by very quickly. And it doesn’t really feel like this large white hole, do you know what I mean? I haven’t gotten any large patches of it that I disown. It all feels quite one story, one line.
In fact, the last time I interviewed you was for Warm Nights, your last solo album, 12 years ago. Long time.
Right. The Evangelist is an unexpected solo album, given the circumstances and 12 years.
You may never have made another one, for all you knew...
That’s entirely true, yes.
How did this all set in motion? Your press release said it was touch-and-go about whether you were ever going to make another record ever. If so, what made up your mind? What was the door opening?
No, no! I was always going to make an album. It was always my intent. Look, Jack, if even just to get out the Grant songs on the record — he and I were playing those songs. I wanted to make a record if only to get those three out to the world. “Demon Days,” “Let Your Light In, Babe,” and “It Ain’t Easy.” They’re the three that he had the music and the choruses to, and I’ve written the lyrics to, except the first five lines of “Demon Days” are his. The only thing is, I probably made the record a year earlier than what I thought it would be. Besides that, I always wanted to record.
So there wasn’t any doubt in your mind that you would?
No, not a second.
So wait a minute! Is your label’s press release lying? [laughter] [The press release begins: “After the death of Grant McLennan, Robert Forster was unsure if he would ever record again.”]
It’s one of those things that slipped into press releases. Or, I don’t know where it is, I find these things all the time.
Somebody wanted to heighten the drama?
Yeah, look, this is what they want to do. They put this stuff out that’s not true, and I have to bear the consequences.
It’s like the Spielberg version. If it tells a better story, actual history be damned!
It is. Spielberg was the first record publicist, probably. But I had some songs written, already. I had “Did She Overtake You.” I mean, why on earth would I not want to make a record? Yes, after Grant died, I was in shock, and I was stunned, you know? But I knew I’d record, I just had to find my way out of the shock and the grief and just… I didn’t start playing with Adele [Pickvance, bassist] until like eight months after he died. It just took about that much time to do some songwriting. I was just very much within myself. And then I just phoned her up and we started playing. That was in February last year. But for seven or eight months, I was just taking my time. I’d just go to her place on Fridays and we’d just sit down and slowly I’d play her the songs.
Did being solo again change the way you write?
No, I don’t think it did. I knew that the album was going to start with “If It Rains.” The Go-Betweens’ albums, when we walked into the studio, I had to no idea what it was going to start with, ‘cause you just never knew. You’d record the songs and then it would become apparent. Whereas with this, I knew where it was going to start and where it was going to go, which was enjoyable, again, given the whole circumstances with Grant passing away. But it was enjoyable to go back and have complete control, and maybe that comes from the album. Maybe you can hear that.
The thing I noticed was that anyone expecting a straight-up funereal record didn’t get one.
[moved] Great. That’s good.
It’s like you took all the emotion in different directions.
That’s true. I knew that I had to face the changes, but I didn’t want it to be too heavy, too one-themed. There were songs I had written before Grant died, anyway.
One of the things we talked about when last we met was about your enduring friendship with Grant. It was before Go-Betweens had reformed, and I mentioned how I’d seen Grant play a solo gig and perform your song “Clouds” — quite a tribute. The bond between he and you had survived the band’s breakup; in fact, your relationship with him had nothing to do with the band splitting up. You were friends for life.
I can remember you telling me. I was really touched!
So when I heard you were recording, The Evangelist I thought, “Oh man, that must be so hard for him.” After losing a lifelong friend, let alone your musical mate for 30 years.
Yeah, definitely. But I’m really glad you said it didn’t feel too funereal. That’s good, that’s really good. Without me thinking about it too hard, this album came to me naturally — the balance I had to strike. But I was very aware that I had to get that balance right! I didn’t want just one deep, dark tone. I’m sure he didn’t want me… Always at the back of my mind, was that Grant’s great love was pop music, so I wanted to keep the pop elements there. If anything gets poppy, go for it. Almost in some sort of tribute to him.
Right, in the Go-Betweens catalog, he was usually the one going for the big melodic flourish.
He was. He was a melody machine! That, and the sense of melancholy — you can’t get away from that. That was in his lyrics, always. There are two things that stick in my mind: the melody and that lyrical melancholy tone.
Though some of the stuff he wrote on this LP, like “Let Your Light In, Babe” is upbeat and friendly! Which might surprise some again expecting an LP full of mourning.
Yeah, he wrote the melody and the chorus, and I wrote the verse words for that, and that’s a song that we practiced as a full band. He had had that song for awhile, with a mandolin.
Well, you were talking about a melancholic streak in Grant’s writing, I’ve seen one in yours as well, like my favorite, “The House That Jack Kerouac Built,” and certainly “Part Company.” On the new record, [the closing] “From Ghost Town” is the shattering track where one really feels your loss.
I know, I know. That was the last song I wrote for the album, and it really overwhelmed me! You know? The melody, and it was a difficult lyric to write. I wrote about three drafts of it, but it was an enormous song to write. I personally haven’t almost taken the implications of it yet… [choking up a little] I mean, if we’re to play it live in whatever form… it will be amazing.
Will it almost be too emotional to do?
Almost! But once I start it, I know we’ll get through. But it’s… It’s one of those really good songs just on the outer limit of what you can imagine you can do. To write a very compact six-minute song, which is long for me, and to hold it all the way through, it feels to me quite classic. I can imagine a lot of people singing that song. I wasn’t looking for a song; I thought the album might just have nine. And so, that it came, was just… overwhelming.
Like someone else wrote it, and you’re covering it?
It feels very much like that.
One of those songs like “Yesterday” or “Satisfaction” that almost wrote itself?
Yes, it is. It came very, very quickly. And normally I don’t write anywhere near that speed, and it just really amazed me. It’s like a painter who notches up a really big painting when they’re 50. When I played it to Adele, she knows my work well, and she said, “You’ve never written anything like that before.” She was overwhelmed, too. I wanted to record it first on the album, that’s how proud of it I was!
Although there’s definitely touches on this record that remind me of some of your older Go-Betweens work. “If It Rains” sounds something like an amalgamation of “Part Company” and “The Clarke Sisters.”
I wanted to start the album, it couldn’t start with a pop song. I knew we wanted to start with something at least to acknowledge what had happened. But not in perhaps a direct way, but just in a sonic tone way. Are you’re talking about the melody?
No, the overall feel. It’s elegiac. A kind of sweetness to it.
But that’s always something that I’ve had. It’s in your DNA, and you just follow it. I’ll keep following it for, maybe another 30 years.
© 1992 - 2009 All Media Guide, LLC