Yesterday morning, the news came over the radio that the Go-Betweens' Grant McLennan had died in his sleep, aged 48.
Perhaps my fragile emotional state was a product of the fact that I was driving in to what would be my 12th day at work in a row, but I had to pull the car over in order to cry.
I think I now have some idea of how Beatles fans felt when Lennon was assassinated, except that in the case of Lennon/McCartney any chance of them getting back together was pie in the sky, whereas Forster/McLennan, after many years of trying to go it alone, had recognised that the whole was so much bigger than the sum of its parts and had resurrected the Go-Betweens, surprisingly but majestically. How cruel, then, that just when they were finally getting the recognition that they had always deserved, it must end.
It is just so sad. My heart goes out, obviously, to Robert Forster, but also to all other past and present Go-Betweens, Adele, Glenn, the other Robert, Amanda, and of course Lindy (who famously shed tears of her own in the post-punk episode of "Long Way To The Top"). The Go-Betweens were never just a band.
Rest in peace, and thank you.
