I have been an ardent fan of Steve Forbert's work ever since his "folkie" debut, "Alive On Arrival," way back in 1978. Despite the burdensome "New Dylan" tag that has continued to dog him through the years, Forbert is simply not cut from that visionary cloth. However, I find in his songs something just as profound, a world view that--ultimately--hits much closer to home. He is the poet of the everyday frustrations of the average working stiff, a role he consistently excels at in beautifully crafted songs, with a rare blend of wit, ironic humor, keen observation, and real passion. "Just Like There's Nothin' To It," his first collection of all-new material in four years, finds him in top form. Although his voice is thinner and reedier than in his youth, it suits his new material beautifully. The songs themselves are brimming with the rich, precise wordplay which has won him so many loyal followers. This is perhaps his finest album to date--a welcome treat for long-time fans, and the ideal introduction for the neophyte.