We revisit the album 30 years later
Band: The Go-Betweens
Album: Spring Hill Fair
Label: Sire Records
Release Date: 27 September 1984
The relationship between Brisbane’s finest sons and daughters The Go-Betweens and their hometown is long and convoluted, and has certainly changed significantly over the past three decades. These days The Go-Betweens are feted with their own bridge spanning the Brisbane River and their song lyrics displayed prominently across mosaics in the Brunswick St Mall and on the walls of Fortitude Valley train station, but back then they were pretty much ignored by all and sundry and the band’s collective attitude towards the city they’d long ago abandoned for more culturally-inclined climes (namely Sydney and the UK) bordered on contemptuous. Which is why their decision to name their third long-player after a quaint Brisbane street gathering still seems quite strange (albeit touching) to this day – in his 1997 tome The Go-Betweens biographer David Nichols called it an “odd moment of affection for their old home”, while much-missed co-frontman Grant McLennan (who passed suddenly and tragically at his Brisbane abode in 2006) said upon its release that the record’s title was “the first time we mentioned Brisbane without being insulting. Everybody from Brisbane I know insults it, and with good reason. It’s a contemptuous town” (this vitriol luckily abated with time, and both Forster and McLennan eventually relocated to Brisbane as prodigal sons).
Don't miss a beat with our FREE daily newsletter
The Go-Betweens at the time were in their soon-to-be-default position of being critical darlings without any major commercial success to back it up, having stirred some ripples with 1983 sophomore long-player Before Hollywood and its McLennan-penned breakout single Cattle And Cane. But things had changed dramatically in the band ranks, with bassist Robert Vickers (another Brisbane native) joining the fold – which had hitherto consisted of Robert Forster (guitar/vocals), McLennan (bass/vocals) and Lindy Morrison (drums) – thus freeing up McLennan to add a second guitar to The Go-Betweens’ armoury. Plus they’d signed with Sire Records in the interim, making Spring Hill Fair the first (and only) album of their fertile first tenure (1977-1989) to come out on a major label. They were sent off to Le Val, France to record with producer John Brand (who’d also overseen Before Hollywood) but before long this previously-solid partnership started creating its own problems and divisions.
"We were a neurotic mess" — Lindy Morrison
Robert Forster later described the production as, “a contemporary London sound… [Brand] thought we had to make a competitive record, in terms of commercial radio in England which at that time was like Howard Jones and Thompson Twins”. With the ‘80s being the ‘80s Morrison as drummer was affected most by this directional decision, with roughly half the tracks featuring programmed rhythms which not only nullified her previously important contributions to the band’s aesthetic but also caused more dissension within the already volatile ranks. In RAM magazine back in 1986 she was quoted as saying; “The reason that Spring Hill Fair was such a disaster was due to the relationships in the band at the time. They were fucked. There were little power struggles going on all over the place. We were a neurotic mess. It was a horrible experience, and it shows”. McLennan has further alluded (see video at bottom of page) to the fact that the major label personnel had no qualms about butting into the songwriting process, an entitlement that you’d imagine would have been severely off-putting for the notoriously insular and independent outfit.
The band also changed their sound substantially on Spring Hill Fair compared to their first two long-players, essentially finding them in mid-transition from the more idiosyncratic sound of their early work to the more polished vibe which would later serve them so well. The songs feel less jagged for the most part and feature more sophisticated arrangements, and contain more guest musicians than they’d called upon before (adding sax, trumpet and backing vocals). Before Hollywood had been dark and atmospheric but Spring Hill Fair was lighter and more nuanced, and the fact that it received largely tepid reviews at the time was potentially due to the fact that reviewers invested in this earlier aesthetic were resistant to the prospect of any major change. McLennan stated of the record at the time, “It’s misunderstood I think, our first misunderstood album”.
"It's misunderstood I think, our first misunderstood album" — Grant McLennan
As per ongoing band convention Spring Hill Fair is divided fairly equally between the two songwriters (Forster has five tracks, McLennan has four while the track Five Words is a co-write), their vastly different yet complementary styles as always slotting together perfectly. The album spawned three singles, none of which cracked the Australian Top 100 Singles chart (hardly surprising in hindsight given the prevailing musical standards of the day), but all of which have aged well. First off the rank was Forster’s gorgeous Part Company, purportedly a parting shot at former label Rough Trade and fittingly (perhaps not coincidentally) not that far removed in tone from the sound of that label’s figureheads The Smiths. The song features strong lyrics and some serious six-string interplay (the combination of Forster and McLennan’s guitars that would later become so important basically started here) but never really managed to gather much traction.
The second single was McLennan’s sublime Bachelor Kisses – The Go-Betweens’ first real reach for classic pop perfection – which interestingly introduces Ana Da Silva from UK post-punk progenitors The Raincoats on backing vocals. It’s an examination of relationship and gender divides couched in a beautiful pop song, and remains one of McLennan’s most enduring moments.
The third single was another Forster tune, the album’s closing track Man O’ Sand To Girl O’ Sea. While musically the song is all terse and fiery post-punk and features excellent percussion from Morrison to offset Forster’s deft guitar lines, the lyrics are desperate and pleading but couched in vaguely highbrow imagery – hyper-literacy was always one of the band’s strengths, yet seemed easily confused with pretence by the more casual listener. It’s a great song but it seems slightly incongruous now that it was chosen as a viable radio single given what was airing at the time (although the single version was a slightly more urgent alternate take and slightly abridged compared to the album version).
Yet despite never reaching single status it’s another Forster composition which remains Spring Hill Fair’s finest moment; the exquisite Draining The Pool For You looks lyrically at class divisions and cash-related acrimony but floats atop beautiful melodies and a brilliantly cruisy tempo, almost touching on country music in places but again contrasted by the bite in Forster’s slightly acerbic vocal delivery. It’s a beautiful song, as is McLennan’s sweet Unkind And Unwise (which he sometimes referred to as the second part of a ‘Cattle And Cane trilogy’) and both make for incredibly substantial album cuts. There was still plenty of experimentation to be found, their contrarian nature shining most brightly on McLennan’s River Of Money, a strange but somehow alluring spoken-word diatribe over a feedback-laced soundscape (one shudders to think what recent converts brought in by the relatively mainstream appeal and pop smarts of, say, Bachelor Kisses would have made of this more avant statement). Forster’s scathing You’ve Never Lived tears strips off an unnamed protagonist (long rumoured to be a prominent journalist), while his The Old Way Out brings a stomping, almost glam rock feel to the table. It’s a willfully diverse collection of songs over the journey, sacrificing cohesion for ambition in that finest The Go-Betweens tradition.
So overall? Spring Hill Fair never really made much of a splash thirty years ago – certainly not enough for anyone at the time to think that the city from which it takes its moniker would be naming prominent inner-city infrastructure after them – but that has more to do with The Go-Betweens’ perpetual status as perennial outsiders than any shortcomings of the album itself. Given that the band is now uniformly recognised as one of Queensland’s and Australia’s preeminent exports, its position as one of their most cherished albums by many fans and its import to their canon alone makes it an inherently important piece in the jigsaw of Australian music history. It’s dated quite well in comparison to other albums of the era and provided a handful of brilliant and eternal songs, and despite major label interference and the cracks that were starting to appear in the band’s ranks the record also acted as a bridge of sorts (sorry) to the beautiful music that was just around the corner and laid the foundation for the group’s future successes (which sadly remained anchored in critical realms rather than commercial). Listening back now it seems that there’s a barely discernible yet almost evangelical zeal on display from all involved to get across the import of what they were creating – not so much a search for fame and fortune, more a quest for an artistic zenith that they felt was nearly within reach. A beautifully-crafted yelp from the perceived darkness.
1. Bachelor Kisses
2. Five Words
3. The Old Way Out
4. You've Never Lived
5. Part Company
6. Slow Slow Music
7. Draining The Pool For You
8. River Of Money
9. Unkind And Unwise
10. Man O' Sand To Girl O' Sea
Check out this interview with Forster and McLennan in which they discuss the genesis of Spring Hill Fair and proffer acoustic renditions of Bachelor Kisses and Part Company (taken from 2006 CD/DVD That Striped Sunlight Sound).