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The
Go-Betweens, a group to gradually grow into, have actually got buckets
of appeal. It's based on qualities which run sharply against a range
of current grains, having little to do with parcelling the perimeters
of feelings and stitching them into the glossy fabric of an immaculate
tune. Rather, the Go-Betweens emerge at a point much nearer feelings
at a formative stage. To hear them is to watch a sentiment escape
and awkwardly unfold. "Primitive" might be an apt adjective.
It describes both the rough beauty of their lyrics, and the way
in which they play. The result is finally edgy, poignant, witty,
naked and terse. It hurts a bit at first, but you get to like it
soon. As they say.
Some
detail: the Go-Betweens are three people, Lindy Morrison (drums
and one vocal), Grant McLennan (bass and several vocals) and Robert
Forster (guitar and most vocals). They come originally from Melbourne,
Australia, where (a friend Down Under assures me) they were pretty
much ignored. Theyve been playing for about five years. They
were not, however, overlooked by Postcards Alan Horne, who
moved in fast, recognising their mix of cracked rank amateurism
and tragi-comic neuroticism as entirely in keeping with his labels
attitude and outlook. A single, I Need Two Heads / Stop Before You
Say It, appeared in 1980, scoring nicely in the alternative charts.
By July 81, the group could be found back home, recording
an album in a Sydney studio for an Aussie label Missing Link; an
album now licensed to Rough Trade, and, this very week, Waiting
For A Lullaby says a big hello-and-nice-to-be-back to the UK.
Maybe
Im forgetting, but this seems the least fussy, least pompous,
most natural and moving music Ive yet heard from their part
of the planet. Lullaby is a raw, rugged record, which leads you
by the hand through a land of paradox and fatalism, pain, wry resignation
and delightful irony. Example? The enchanting One Thing Can Hold
Us: One thing can hold us/ one thing can break us ... Its
the same thing! Maybe Im just daft, but so much that makes
their insight and intelligence really work is exemplified in those
lines. The Go-Betweens vulnerability is perfectly foiled by
their noise, an identifiably post-Velvets-cum-electric folk amalgam
of treble and discord which helps inject a wounding frailty into
their often lovely melodies and eccentric rhythmic rambles. Its
clumsiness bolsters its confused emotions, its melancholia matches
the wonderment and worry. Its also a record of tremendous
depth, a mystery to be fathomed. Im still sorting it out.
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