ON the surface Robert Forster's songwriting may appear straightforward, and even, simplistic.
Yet through his unusual, almost-spoken phrasing, his melodies are always more intriguing than at first glance.
They're the type of tunes you'll often find yourself humming along to days after, as if they've covertly burrowed their way into your subconscious.
It's probably why The Go-Betweens never dominated the charts in their '80s prime, but it also explains why the Brisbane indie band never dated and remain more relevant than many of their more successful contemporaries to subsequent generations.
On a cold Sunday night Forster took to the Lizotte's stage armed with just an acoustic guitar and his illustrious songbook.
Often a true test of any song is whether it still enchants when stripped to its bare bones of voice and acoustic guitar, and on that examination Forster scored an A.
The near-capacity Lizotte's crowd listened intently. They were an appreciative crowd, happy to mediate on Forster's songs.
Back in February Forster released his eighth solo album, The Candle and The Flame, a intimate record of minimalist instrumentation and reflective storytelling.
Half the album was performed at Lizotte's and sat comfortably next to Forster's Go-Betweens classics.
The rhythmic shuffle of Always and delicate The Roads, written about visiting his German wife Karin Baulmer's family in Bavaria, were highlights.
The "psychedelic country song" I Don't Do Drugs I Do Time perfectly summed up where Forster finds himself at 65. The androgynous waif who once appeared in The Go-Betweens clip for Head Full Of Steam was long ago replaced by a grey-haired suburban gentleman comfortable in his own skin.
Of the well-known Go-Betweens numbers, only Spring Rain failed to excite. It felt flat without the jangle of electric guitar and Lindy Morrison's energetic drumming.
Dive For Your Memory was gorgeous as ever. The song once written about Morrison after their relationship ended, has gained greater meaning in memory for Forster's best friend and songwriter partner, the late Grant McLennan, who died at 48 in 2006.
Other poignant moments were fellow 16 Lovers Lane song, Clouds, and a touching rendition of McLennan's Boundary Rider in the encore, which ended with the lyric, "keeps you walking through these tears."
To finish the evening Forster urged the audience out of their respectful silence to sing the "da da, da da" hook on Surfing Magazines.
The track encapsulates Forster's songwriting to a tee; simplistic, yet beautiful.
It's the rare feat of pop writing that makes you actually feel something.
