robert forster

Ah Robert Forster, were we not musing of he just a review or two ago. New record, oh alright we’ll rephrase and elucidate on that, a new single but an old song, I say old, it emerged last year on his ‘songs to play’ album for the Tapete imprint, which unless I’ve since acquired several bangs to the head rendering memory defunct, then disappointingly we must have blinked momentarily as it flew by. ‘love is where it is’ is getting the download only treatment next month, quirky and crooked, a strangely casual affair whose less than obvious immediacy has you imagining the passing of a stranger in the street, who just to be friendly you’ve nodded to in a courteous moment only to find the blighter kicking you up the backside mere seconds later. Such is its delayed infectious punch that even the harmonies bizarrely waiver in out of sync, still it’s engaging, ridiculously off centred and somewhat flighty if not lazy eyed and lolloping as it casually lolls along to a kind of out of step 60’s styled cosmopolitan shuffle trimmed in bossa nova mosaics and a French-y suave, in truth a bit like Leonard Cohen pretending at being Serge Gainsbourg.  

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