The growing international acclaim for Australian bands like the soulful Royal Headache and the visceral Eddy Current Suppression Ring gives the impression that nearly every independent act making its way up from down under cut its teeth in the proverbial garage. Melbourne foursome Husky, however, stands in contrast that that ragged, fuzzy clang with the lush folk of its debut, Forever So. Husky’s members openly adore big pop and folk hitmakers of the ’60s, and early on in Forever So they establish a knack for creating the same kind of delicate moods that helped cement the careers of everyone from Leonard Cohen to Neil Young. While Husky has all the pieces of a great band—Husky Gawenda’s heart-wrenching croon, Gideon Preiss’ delicate piano playing, an ear for affecting, swelling harmonies—but the parts only rarely coalesce into memorable tunes.
When everything falls into place, however, it nearly makes up for the lackluster stretches. The soothing “Hunter” glides by on the grace of Gawenda’s nimble fingerpicking and Luke Collins’ sparse drumrolls, while the elegiac titular number strips away its intricate layers to reveal a taut, stark, piano-driven chorus. Unfortunately, the standout tracks are few and far between. Although Forever So has some exceptional moments, they merely serve as a bitter reminder of Husky’s potential to create something more than just a collection of pleasant sounds.