Recorded at Toronto's Raventape Studios with producer Robbie Grunwald, this six-track collection strips back the artifice to reveal something refreshingly raw. Forshner's acoustic guitar sits at the centre of everything, but it's the subtle touches—a suitcase repurposed as a kick drum, the ghostly presence of Mellotron, Jay Crafton's delicate glockenspiel work—that elevate these songs beyond the coffee shop confessional that lesser talents might have settled for.
The standout track, "Under Control," demonstrates Forshner's particular gift for wrapping devastating subject matter in deceptively buoyant arrangements. Here, the struggle with substance abuse and mental health is rendered not as misery porn but as something approaching hope—a remarkable feat of emotional alchemy that recalls the best work of Born Ruffians, one of his cited influences. The song's upbeat veneer barely contains the roiling complexity beneath, creating the sort of tension that makes for genuinely compelling listening.
Forshner's voice, while still finding its full power, carries the weight of lived experience with remarkable grace. There's something of Mac DeMarco's slacker charm mixed with the introspective intensity of Peach Pit, though he's clearly carving out his own territory. When joined by Cassius Lucchetta's sympathetic bass work and the occasional vocal contributions from Jess Knights, the arrangements breathe with organic warmth.
The production choices speak to an artist and producer unafraid to embrace imperfection in service of authenticity. The acoustic guitar tone is deliberately unpolished, retaining the sort of intimate presence that makes you feel as though you're sharing a late-night conversation rather than simply consuming product. It's a brave choice in an era of compressed perfection, and one that pays dividends throughout.
"Hopeless Optimism" succeeds because it feels necessary rather than calculated. In an age where mental health and addiction are too often treated as content rather than lived experience, Forshner's approach feels genuinely therapeutic—both for himself and, one suspects, for listeners wrestling with similar demons. His stated aim of using music as "a journal to process emotions" rings true throughout, lending these songs the sort of emotional authenticity that can't be manufactured.
This is very much a debut in the truest sense—rough around the edges, occasionally uncertain, but possessed of genuine promise. If Forshner can continue to develop his voice while maintaining this level of emotional honesty, future releases should prove genuinely exciting. For now, "Hopeless Optimism" stands as a remarkably assured first statement from an artist worth watching.
The EP was celebrated with a release show at Toronto's Tapestry, and one can only hope that live performance will continue to shape and refine these songs. There's something here worth nurturing—a voice that speaks to the peculiar optimism that can emerge from life's darker moments, wrapped in melodies that linger long after the final notes fade.
Hopeless Optimism is available now.