Guy Forsyth
Voices Inside: An Acoustic Record (Small & Nimble)“What we’re getting at here is a systematic deconstruction of my psyche,” announces Guy Forsyth by way of “Intro” to Voices Inside. The Saxon Pub, where this hour-long live set was delivered with meaty aplomb, is good for precisely that, quenching the thirst of Austin’s most trusted and rugged singer-songwriters. “Midnight Train” rams this home first, a lively acoustic vérité of leaving and its consequences. The title song, “Picking my rhymes, I sometimes hear voices inside,” ambles down those same tracks, lost in thought rather than running on steam. “Heart Shaped Hole,” stark national steel and grit-teeth heartbreak, strikes out the psyche side. “Do I come across as bitter?” asks Forsyth, a trusted, rugged performer. “No,” yells a Saxonne. “Well, we’ll fix that!” he grins, launching into a swaggering, guitar-sliding, Delta-to-Dixie Biblical fable, “Adam’s Rib.” Troubalicious! Tom Waits meets Tom Stoppard. “Patient’s Blues,” maybe Dave Matthews on performance-enhancing supplements. By the time Forsyth strides forcefully into “What I Should Be Singing,” boy is he ever! With every ounce of his sensitive, chauvinistic charisma. If he weren’t, Guy Forsyth would be barking down a dead art. He’s not, of course. That’s what the Voices Inside keep telling him.
This article appears in November 1 • 2002.
