Belle & Sebastian: Indie rock is a funny thing, ain't it? Two albums ago, fey Scottish septet
Belle & Sebastian were the toast of Hipsterville after their brilliant second album,
If You're Feeling Sinister, introduced us to Stuart Murdoch's smart melodies and those
endearingly stealthy sensibilities --only in indie rock is shying away from interviews and
photo shoots an expert marketing scheme. But earlier this year, with the mainstream media
whipped into a kinda-sorta frenzy (a Top-40 single in England! Stuart poses for Time magazine!)
over B&S's fourth album, Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant, it suddenly
became cool for hipsters to roll their eyes and scoff, "You know, I didn't even like
that Sinister album or whatever it was called." Thing is, Fold is an uneven
album at best; maybe the hipsters can claim victory on this one. But wait: just weeks before that album was released, a
boxed set of reissued EPs called Lazy Line Painter Jane crawled in under the radar (which
is probably just how Murdoch planned it). The three four-song discs, originally released the
year after If You're Feeling Sinister came out, show off Murdoch's quirky gifts in full
splendor. Combined, they make for a much stronger "album" than Fold. Instead of
letting his bandmates in on the songwriting, each of these tunes is authored by (sigh!) Stuart,
sure to please his fawning, freakishly obsessive fanbase. Truth be told, you have to wade through some thick esoteric
muddle to get to the meat of these songs. Inside jokes are rampant - Lisa the Blind Girl from
Fold's "The Model" makes an appearance on "Beautiful," the songs
"A Century of Elvis" and "A Century of Fakers" have the exact same chord
progression, there's even a song called "Belle & Sebastian." But the payoffs of
these somewhat obnoxious songwriting indulgences are great. Murdoch's MO is writing
melodies that baffle you the first time you hear them, start to charm you the second time, and
by the third you're singing along with his beautiful pop hooks and wondering how they could
have ever sounded bizarre ("The State I Am In," in particular, has a tune that
starts off harsh and then evolves). And when he's not lyrically winking to his bandmates
and himself, Murdoch can toss off a casually profound one- or two-liner. Many lyricists try
to come up with the perfect way to say "You're a god and I am not" (and some use
just that), but Murdoch can let loose with "You made me forget my dreams / When I woke up
to you sleeping" like it's nothing. Belle & Sebastian seem to treat the audience that
fueled their early career with disdain. References to trendies abound, and the
word "hipsters" is cheekily censored out of the liner notes. In their
short career, B&S have shaken up the indie rock world mightily, so much so that their music
is, unfortunately, almost beside the point now. But then again, that lack of attention may just
have been their master plan all along, so they can continue to create art without John and
Jane Hipster looking over their shoulders. That's why I can't tell whether Murdoch is sincere,
ironic or just outright lying when, on the outro, he sings "Belle & Sebastian / On the
radio / And we're really sorry / For all the trouble we've caused."
Rating: 9
Lazy Line Painter Jane (Matador)
- Matt Ozga
your
shot
Think you can do better? Email us your pithy comments on the
cd's and shows we
review, and the lists and essays we write.
We'll publish excerpts in future editions...