"'Café Oblivion' shares its lush and orchestral qualities with its predecessor; the influence of Bacharach is a constant presence."
Melbourne musician Alex Gow's latest record finds the singer trying to shake his image as an earnest, white, male, middle-class songwriter – although his quest for playfulness and surrealism feels just as much a symptom of privilege as the melancholy archetype that he wants to leave behind.
While he flew to America and isolated himself to write his previous record, When We Talk About Love, this time Gow wrote and recorded in Australia, working once again with producer Scott Horscroft. As a result, this new album shares its lush and orchestral qualities with its predecessor; the influence of Bacharach is a constant presence.
There's of course plenty of Australiana in these compositions too, such as the lowdown guitar on National Park, the distinctly The Boys Light Up harmonica on Ring & The Jewel, and the peddle-steel twang provided by Graham Lee throughout Keep A Light On.
The quality of the arrangements is undeniable. However, rather than serving as effective juxtaposition for Gow's surrealist songwriting experiments, the music is occasionally a reminder of just how seriously he's trying not to take himself. Thankfully, there are enough transcendent moments throughout the album to offer redemption.
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