Guy Forsyth
Voices Inside: An Acoustic Record
Small & Nimble Records
by Bonny Holder

Senior Reporter

I was raised up in what was then called, on the AM radio stations, "Chicagoland." OK, Rockford, Illinois, close enough. There was a lot of city-blues influence in the local music of the time. We had lots of chances to see people like Luther Allison, Big Mama Thornton, John Lee Hooker, Sonny Terry & Brownie McGhee, Dave Van Ronk, Muddy Waters, etc.

Now, all these folks were up there in years, but they still sort of exuded adventure. As a pre-teen in the 'burbs, listening to their recordings and seeing them live was as close as I came to living on the edge. Perhaps some of them were a bit long-in-the-tooth to pose a clear-and-present danger to me, listening in her wallpapered bedroom; but damn, when they were young, they would have slit my throat if I had looked at them in the wrong way, I just knew it. I shivered at the thrill.

And then came the white blues boys. Paul (sigh) Butterfield, the Blues Project, Koerner, Ray & Glover, John Hammond Jr., the Allman Bros. I had almost finished my teens by then, and I loved them all from afar. The players themselves seemed dark and moody, not as dangerous as their precursors, but I could tell they knew dangerous people. Or they knew somebody who knew dangerous people. They smoked a lot, and they had a very masculine, sneery side. Even Janis could sneer if it was called for.

Then I sort of lost track of the blues, and have recently re-connected with it through the musical persona of Austin's Guy Forsyth. Since I first heard Can You Live Without, I bought Needlegun and Steak and the live one. And I was newly amazed. Forsyth plays and sings as well as anyone who ever came up through the 'burbs. His material, original and covers, is terrific. He's got as much energy as younger guys ­ in their 20's, say. He's bright and attractive and sensitive in a confident, masculine way.

But I have to tell you this. He just isn't mean enough. If hell-hounds were on John Lee Hooker's trail, then golden retrievers are on Guy Forsyth's.

I like Forsyth's quirkier persona the best, the one he exhibited for years in the Asylum Street Spankers, Austin's all-acoustic (no mics) jug-less jug band. The techniques and voices he borrows from the old music, the music of heavy old 78s, are great. He's a smart writer, and he seems resolutely heterosexual, which is just fine with me, because I like his songs about men and women and attraction and confusion and relationships.

Voices Inside: An Acoustic Record is a one-hour set recorded live at the Saxon Pub in Austin earlier this year. George Rarey accompanies Forsyth on 14 songs spanning a range of musical stories. Some of these songs we've heard before. The Spankers have recorded "Jerry the Junker" and the clever "Whatever."

This CD is an accurate representation of what you would experience if you went to see Forsyth in person. I know because a week ago, I drove 10 hours from Albuquerque NM to Ardmore, OK to catch him at a place called the Two Frogs Grill. I wanted to see if he was the real deal. I am happy to report that he is. His charm and hard-working, spiritual dedication to music is a real soul-thing. His band surrounds themselves with votive candles festooned with pictures of their mostly-gone blues idols. His instrument rack that evening included two guitars and a saw, but he had a pocketful of mouth harps. His performance was awesome. The audience was dazzled. I was all tickled. What a find!

On the CD, which Forsyth sells off the stage for ten bucks, "Heart-Shaped Hole" stands out for its Appalachian-sounding vocals and a stunning National steel guitar.

Pinch yourself for good luck, I know you know my name
I heard the word around the town & I know you heard the same
the first clown who stares me down gets a blanket made of coal,
like my mother told me, I was born with a heart-shaped hole.

Well I read the bible and I read the tao te ching
and I tracked mama down to see if she would sing
mama, who could teach what my whole lesson is about?
Nobody'll save you, she says, fill it from the inside out.

"Do I come across as bitter?" Forsyth asks his audience, who holler back, "No!" "Well, we'll fix that!" he answers, heartily, launching into a Waits-ish version of a song called "Adam's Rib." Ar-ar-ar-ar.

You got yourself a tough Texas woman, beauty pageant crown
But the crown don't look so pretty, now she's out runnin' around
well I done my share of waiting, I was a lonely boy
you can't live yourself just sittin' around looking for other folks to bring you joy.
She was a restless woman with rambling on her mind
and I was a sweet young innocent thing just off the assembly line
She took me right on out on the highway, the lady had a feelin' for speed
when we hit 69, I was high-baggin' curves, I was thinkin'
`this is all that I'll ever need.'

This is accompanied but Forsyth's remarkably sweet musical saw -- yeah, saw -- and scatting a'la Cab Calloway.

Each song on this CD deserves mention. I could have been a rock and roll star, but I was scared of my own guitar, I let the ones who are tell me how to play. If you had a bad dream, I could tell you what it means. I work right next to you, and you never have nothin' to say. That's from "What I Should Be Singing."

"Dia, Dennise, Diana & You" is Forsyth's very own "To All The Girls I Loved Before." I especially like the mention of "several different Michelles." Oooh, the arrogance! Check this lyric:

I met Stephanie Lynn Bird at a wake for a punk
who died in a car wreck, though he wasn't drunk.
She drove me back to her strip-mall home
in a '71 Duster she works on all alone.
She's got a brother in the Army, her eyeshadow's blue,
she married at 18, but it all fell through.
We made love in the bedroom, she cried when she came,
she said "don't leave," never saw her again.

I've read somewhere that Forsyth would like to be considered musically heroic, that he is not adverse to being larger-than-life, to put drama and passion to the service of the song. He pushes his strength leaning into the music, then responding to the energy that creates. This recording draws the listener in with ease, and by-god, this kind of musical honesty should be rewarded, perhaps not with adoration, but with attention, respect, and happiness. Yeah, happiness. You'll be happy to hear Voices Inside on your CD changer, over and over.

Guy Forsyth's website is: www.guyforsyth.com



You can contact Bonny Holder at bonny-at-rockzilla.net

 
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