“I’m beginning to think,” says a hot ‘n sweaty Stuart Murdoch, mid-way through ‘Side 1’ of If You’re Feeling Sinister, “that velour maybe wasn’t such a good idea after all.” Belle And Sebastian are in Troon, playing the second of two warm-up nights for an extensive pan-global tour to celebrate 30 years of recording activity as a group. The night before, they’d delivered (all reports say) a note-perfect rendition of debut album Tigermilk. Tonight, that same attention to detail is focused on the faithful delivery of their second album, plus an extended encore of Belles’ back cat classics. Troon Concert Hall is rammed. Murdoch is from Ayr, a short pitch ‘n putt down the South Ayrshire coast and much is being made of his local roots and these, his group’s first ever gigs on Ayrshire soil.
There was a time when I couldn’t get enough of Belle And Sebastian. I came to them just after Tigermilk and while that record was almost instantly unobtainable, nascent dial-up internet access provided me with my very first illegal download. By the time it had landed, the album had just about been reissued on CD, but still…
I loved all of those early singles and EPs; Dog On Wheels, 3…6…9…Seconds Of Light, This Is Just A Modern Rock Song, Lazy Line Painter Jane plus their associated b-sides. Here was a group with, via their sleeve art, an instant identity and, via their records, an instant sound – ‘We’re four boys in corduroy, we’re not terrific but we’re com-pe-tent,’ as they warble on …Modern Rock Song.
They seemed to be the sort of band that split listeners into two camps. Either you were nonplussed by their considered and non-threatening ways and quickly turned your attentions to other groups, or you bought into them, hook, line and sinker. Me, I was into them. Belle And Sebastian. Le Pastie de la Bourgeoise? Hooklines for thinkers.
The music fell into two camps as well. Either the tune was gossamer-light; fragile to the point of falling apart with vocals that were whispered and wobbly and fey, lightly strummed acoustic guitars playing against a backdrop of recorders and tambourines and the sort of pitched percussion that you might find at the back of an old cupboard in your local primary school, or they were reverb ‘n twang-soaked, hand-clapped ‘n beat-driven garage groovers, covered in a sheen of Dylan’s thin wild mercury keyboard sound and an ambitious but Asda-priced Brian Wilson approach to arrangement and production. Either way, they were ace.
If it’s been a while, give Dog On Wheels another listen.
Belle And Sebastian – Dog On Wheels
Dog On Wheels was the first song in the second half of the set last week and it motored along on, yes, a bed of reverb ‘n twang ‘n thin wild mercury keyboard. Stealing more then a melody from Lee ‘n Nancy’s Summer Wine and a key change from Scott 3 while copping Forever Changes‘ mariachi fanfare, Dog On Wheels has lost none of its ability to thrill, even twenty-nine years later.
My favourite period of Belle And Sebastian is around that second album. The perfect antithesis to Liam ‘n Noel ‘n Damon ‘n all of that, If You’re Feeling Sinister sounded out of step, positively arcane even back then, but with fresh ears, it’s held its own very well.
It’s a terrific record. There’s no knuckle-dragging wham/bam thunderslam with it. The opening track, The Stars Of Track And Field unspools slowly, gracefully, majestically and sets the mood for all that follows. Seeing Other People… Me And The Major… Fox In The Snow… Mayfly, Judy And The Dream Of Horses… all little mini symphonies of well-crafted songs. I always find myself going back to Dylan In The Movies. Maybe it’s because I got the ‘Don’t Look Back‘ reference immediately, or maybe it’s simply because it’s a brilliant wee song.
Belle And Sebastian – Like Dylan In The Movies
Not for the Belles a power chord and squall of feedback, or a barreling drum roll and phlegmy, throaty, shouty vocal. Theirs is a considered noise, not a ‘that’ll do’ approach at all. Save for the frugging bassline, the band stops when Stuart sings ‘when the music stops!’ in the opening verse. The guitars that follow are clipped and conservative. No one is itching to fire off a blooze solo or anything flashy. The musicians are there to serve the song, as they were on that stage in Troon. Two of the nine piece group are on recorders. Stevie Jackson, falling somewhere between Elvis Costello and Buddy Holly plays a tasteful fuzz solo. Bob Kildea plays that frugging bassline with all the elan of a prime time James Jamerson. Chris Geddes coaxes subtle backing from his keyboard and the whole thing opens up in a technicolour riot of percussive milk float tinkles and stately horns, male/female vocals and a tastefully worked out ending…’If they follow you, don’t look back‘: the finest song about the threat of getting a kicking since Down In The Tube Station At Midnight, only more tastefully delivered (and without the actual kicking).
Amongst many dates, the Belle And Sebastian roadshow has already taken in Paris and Berlin, before a couple of Albert Hall shows in London and Manchester…and then Mexico and Canada and the States, where a friend of mine will see them in Los Angeles – From Fullarton Woods to Hollywood, to paraphrase East Kilbride’s Boy Wonder.
They’re back at Kelvingrove Bandstand in June. A balmy summer’s night under the open skies in Glasgow…where else would you rather be? Get there!
Plain Or Pan 