STEVE FORBERT : MOVING THROUGH AMERICA

STEVE FORBERT : MOVING THROUGH AMERICA

Buffalo Nickel
Fried Oysters
Moving Through America
Living The Dream
Please Don't Eat The Daisies
Times Like These
I Can't Get Back
Say Hello To Gainesville
It's Too Bad (You Super Freak)
What's A Dog Think
Palo Alto

Label : Blue Rose Music

Release Date : May 13, 2022

Length : 36:42

Review (AllMusic) : I first saw Steve Forbert live in 1979, a year after his debut album, in an ugly concrete-walled multi-purpose room at my college just outside of Boston. It’s fair to say that if I had to travel any further (it was across the street from my dorm) or pay any more (it was free for students) I would not have bothered. And I would have missed being exposed to someone whose music has now been a welcome companion for 43 years and counting. I say “and counting” because not only do I continue to revisit Forbert’s early albums, but because he – after 40 years on the road and 20 albums – continues to release vital and exciting new music. That is absolutely true of Moving Through America, Forbert’s latest album/travelog. The songs on Moving Through America feel instantly familiar. No small part of that is Forbert’s distinctive voice – warm and expressive, welcoming and resonant. He never overwrites; his approach is straight-froward, but never boring. It’s no surprise that he is uninterested in lofty conversations about musical genres (country v. folk v. Americana, for example). “I’m not trying to refine or reimagine what I do,” says Forbert. “This is a continuation. I’m telling new stories, but my focus has always been the same. It’s always been about the songs.” And Moving Through America delivers great songs. The album opener, “Buffalo Nickel,” reflects on the United States’ long history of mistreating Native Americans but does so in Forbert’s characteristically semi-detached style (“I’m thinking ’bout a Buffalo nickel/It seems so ironic to me/We had to go an’ slaughter every Buffalo herd/And we couldn’t leave an Indian be”). Some of Forbert’s best songs here are about places he has passed though during his four decades of travels across the United States. He does not sing the praises of New York, Los Angles or Chicago; it’s more about Reynoldsburg, Ohio; Fort Wayne, Indiana, and Madison, Wisconsin. In the title track, Forbert shows how he can capture a town in couplet: “Madison, Wisconsin is a town of neon signs/Glowing signs of neon sellin’ liquor, beer and wine/Cocktail from the fifties with an olive in a glass/An all-day long suggestion that keeps flashin’ as you pass.” Other standout songs also convey a powerful sense of place, from Palo Alto, California to Gainesville, Florida. “Say Hello to Gainesville” is a warm tribute to Tom Petty and his hometown, which Forbert remembers as a place of “a sunny sounding motels” and “sunshine trees.” Forbert also displays his goofy side on the album. Who else would write a love song entitled “Fried Oysters” (“I won’t eat fried oysters without you and the cocktail sauce/I don’t care what they cost/ it’s worth those high prices/I’m your date and you said eight and you’re my oyster girl”), or spend a song wondering “What’s a Dog Think” about lawn mowing, thunderclaps or firetrucks?

Review (Americana UK) : Steve Forbert is one of the great unsung troubadours of American music from the past forty years or so. His first album ‘Alive on Arrival’ was released through Nemperor Records back in 1978, but it was the follow up, ‘Jackrabbit Slim’ (1979) which was the breakthrough, with lead single ‘Romeo’s Tune’ climbing high in the Billboard Hot 100, and still turning up on oldies shows today. Sadly, that was the peak of Forbert’s commercial success, and although two subsequent albums were released on Nemperor, a contractual dispute meant no more music was released until 1988. However, that is not the end of the story by any stretch of the imagination. Forbert established a loyal following for his music which remains today, and he has produced an extensive body of work over the years, with new albums appearing at regular intervals. The latest of these is ‘Moving Through America’, released on Blue Rose Music. There are several songs here which will qualify immediately as Forbert classics. Opening number ‘Buffalo Nickel’ is a solo acoustic consideration of white American history, with the writer ruminating on the iconography of the legendary two headed coin, minted in the early part of the 20th century – “I’m looking at a buffalo nickel, it seems so ironic to me / we had to go and slaughter every buffalo herd, and we couldn’t leave an Indian be”. It’s a perfectly formed piece, balancing the extraordinary achievements of the modern American nation, but also the failings. The song is all done in under two minutes, and wrapped in a wholly enticing musical package. Next up comes ‘Fried Oysters’, which is at the other end of the Forbert oeuvre – this time the small scale, ultra-personal relationship details, with the gentlest country rock backing. It’s really a delightful thing, and another of Forbert’s seemingly endless supply of effortless sounding, easy-going tunes. It’s hard to listen to without a smile creeping across your face. Some songs are more instantly engaging than others, but all the songs here bear fruits from repeated listening. The title track first appeared on his last album of original material, ‘The Magic Tree’; but clearly he felt there was more to be done, so it reappears here, in a more developed band setting. Meanwhile, ‘What’s A Dog Think’ closes out the record, with its elastic, almost circus like music; its half observational comedy, half plaintive cry for emotional attention, with a whole lot more depth than a cursory listen would suggest. Special mention also needs to be made for ‘Palo Alto’, a song about a ship commissioned (but not used) for World War I, and what becomes of it after the conflict is finished. The song is actually quite a literal history lesson, and one suspects seeing the lyrics written down would appear like a listing in a local history pamphlet; and yet in Forbert’s hands, and with a beautifully understated chorus melody, it becomes something much more – almost a paean to the American Dream itself, and the fact that while not every pursuit of it comes to a satisfactory fruition, there is poignancy and even worth in the so-called failures. Forbert possesses one of the most distinctive and recognisable voices in American music, and after having come through cancer treatment just a few years ago, it is really pleasing to find that it remains the subtle and fine instrument it always has been, with a yearning, keening, questioning and vulnerable quality quite unlike any other. It is beautifully matched to his songwriting style, which frequently has a quizzical bent to it. Forbert has never sought to be a prophet or soapbox orator; rather, he is the often bemused bystander, one eyebrow raised, marvelling at the wonders and also the oddities of the world and its inhabitants. So, this record adds to the story. It is a grown up record, but not a difficult one to listen to. Forbert’s singing and writing voice remain consistent with his existing work, but also able to engage with the times we’re in, and the age he is. It may be unlikely to win new fans, but it will please the followers. Saying that, if his name is new to you, this is equally as good a place to start as any of the twenty or so records that precede it; and his is a well which is worth dipping into, as there are many subtle, nuanced and joyous moments to be had in his music.

Review (No Depression) : Steve Forbert remains the great American troubadour, crisscrossing the country, guitar slung over his back and harmonica rack over his shoulders, celebrating the colorful diversity of life along America’s highways and byways. The swaggering title track of Forbert’s new album, Moving Through America, mimics the road tripping of its main character across the Midwest. The opening sonic measures recall Jackie DeShannon’s “Moving,” and propulsive guitar rhythms evoke the wide-eyed weariness of the road warrior who’s both jaded and amazed by the little things he sees on his trip. The album opens with the luminous “Buffalo Nickel,” a lament clothed in nostalgia that’s rendered more poignant by the spareness of the song. Forbert’s raspy vocals ride over his caressing fingerpicking as he thinks about a buffalo nickel — with a picture of a buffalo on one side and an “Indian brave” on the other — and reflects: “It seems so ironic to me / we had to go and slaughter every buffalo herd and couldn’t leave the Indian be.” In Forbert’s song, the buffalo nickel becomes an image of the way a country destroys what it enshrines. The comic “Fried Oysters,” laid down over a bed of Gulf Morlix’s shimmering guitar and George Naha’s sparkling lead run, tells the tale of a man who “won’t eat fried oysters” without his “oyster girl.” The Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers-esque “Say Hello to Gainesville” is a tribute to Petty’s Florida hometown, where he’s the “juice growing on the sunshine tree.” The slow, sliding reggae blues “What’s a Dog Think” ponders what a dog thinks we’re doing when we’re driving a car, or when the thunder claps and we sit as if nothing is happening when the dog is scared to death. Forbert’s genius lies in his artful way of telling funny and memorable stories about the hopes and dreams of ordinary folks across America. In that way, he continues to follow in the footsteps of his folk music hero and fellow Meridian, Mississippi, native Jimmie Rodgers.