Well, I guess this means the Go-Betweens are back for good. It's not every day that a reunion becomes a full-blown second phase for a band's career, but that seems to be what's happening with this old Australian outfit, even if principle songwriters Grant McLennan and Robert Forster are the only original members back in the fold. 2000's Friends of Rachel Worth found the duo picking up pretty much where the Go-Betweens left off in 1988, back when they were a steady five-piece operating far from their Brisbane home, in London, to massive critical acclaim and microscopic album sales. The post-punk charge that found its way into some of the band's early recordings is all but gone; the band focuses almost all of Bright Yellow Bright Orange (their eighth full-length) on their acoustic, folk-inflected side.
It's not an entirely bad thing: the mellow material seems to suit the band now that they're older, and gives the spotlight to their melodic craft, which hasn't diminished a bit over time. Ultimately, McLennan gets the better half of it, as his voice hasn't deteriorated much over the years; Forster, however, has trouble holding up his end. In fact, Forster's best moments on the album are those where the quality of the melody simply overwhelms his shaky, awkward vocals, a la Dylan in the days before he had a backing band. Case in point is the loping \x93Too Much of One Thing\x94, with its strummed verses and barely-there drumming, where his phrasing is less than precise, but still comes off melodically strong. McLennan puts in his two cents on some smoothly crooned, wordless interjections, making the contrast between the two vocalists all the more obvious.
Opener \x93Caroline & I\x94 sounds great coming out of the gates, with a thick, though basic arrangement and a good performance from Forster, also fantastic on his best contribution, the propulsive \x93Make Her Day\x94, whose subtle keyboard countermelodies lead to ascendant choruses. But in moments, Forster is a complete disaster, like on \x93Something for Myself\x94, which sounds half-written and limp, with a completely unnatural synthesis of melody and lyrics, including onerous, would-be humorous lines like \x93Want to get out of folk/ and get into rare groove.\x94
McLennan, by contrast, can't seem to make a wrong step: he's positively ebullient on \x93Poison in the Wall\x94, where he bookends his excellent verse with big guitar hooks and a chorus that'll vertically envelop you faster than the 82nd Airborne. He pulls things back for \x93Mrs. Morgax94 and \x93Crooked Lines\x94, two richly strummed ballads that rank among the album's best tracks. His best, though, is \x93Old Mexico\x94, a thoroughly lush pop song with a swaggering, staccato guitar riff in the verses and a huge, swirling chorus full of harmonies and cascading keyboards.
For its excellent high points, there's just something about Bright Yellow Bright Orange that's less than fully satisfying. Obviously, Forster's less inspired moments are mostly to blame, but there's also a certain lack of invention in a lot of the material that's a bit disappointing. Ultimately, I'm glad the Go-Betweens have decided to stick it out, because they're still making some great songs, but their best material is definitely behind them, on classic albums like Spring Hill Fair and Before Hollywood. Their latest album is certainly going to please old fans, but with their touted back catalog recently reissued, newcomers would probably be best off heading to their early records first.
