What a dapper cloth Robert Forster, co-founder of the Go-Betweens, cuts his songs from; and, on his first album in seven years, how subtle and distinctive their tailoring. The album’s title is stitched into a tender lyric about vagabond songwriters: the wild west trembles in its hushed guitar and cicadas hum deep in the mix. Cinematic reference shapes Love Is Where It Is too, but here the aura is French New Wave, keyboards floating like cigarette smoke beneath sassy “ba ba ba” vocals; the overall effect is hilarious in its knowing, and yet captivating in its warmth. Forster inhabits the role of self-assured dandy to perfection, and if I Love Myself (and I Always Have) pushes the point somewhat, A Poet Walks and Learn to Burn temper ego with wry deprecation, the former throwing in mariachi trumpet for fun, the latter underscoring ticklish guitars with drums that clack like Cuban heels. In general, arch suits him better than earnest or sentimental, but the sombre mood of closing song Disaster in Motion is nigglingly affecting, its narrow-eyed survey of the flow and mulch of life laced with ambiguity.
