9.22.2005
Wrapped up in books
I checked the Belle & Sebastian bio book Just A Modern Rock Story out from the library recently, and started listening to the band's discography front-to-back because that's what music geeks do. I've found that parts of it hold up better than others. I'm up to The Boy With the Arab Strap, and it's the best thus far, easily outpacing the charming but uneven school-project debut and showing more range than the genre-kickstarting sophomore outing, If You're Feeling Sinister. Next up are the two weak spots in the line-up, the disappointing Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant, and the fairly awful soundtrack to Todd Solondz's Storytelling.
The mixed bag that this band's back catalog provides has been a surprise to someone who considers himself a fan. That up-and-down quality was given further context when I read the press pack that came with the forthcoming disc from the Clientele, Strange Geometry. An article in Gear magazine from 2001 quotes band leader Alasdair Maclean as saying about Belle & Sebastian, "I don't understand what's good about them. They're okay. I just think we're better. And it's not even an arrogant claim, really. It's like saying we're better than a Micky Dolenz album."
He had me until the reference to the Monkee. At first it sounded like sour grapes from a band that, while good and critically acclaimed, doesn't sell many records when compared to relative indie heavyweights like B&S. But having given Strange Geometry a few spins while on my trip through B&S's discography, I find I must agree: The Clientele is the better band. While B&S at its best is easily the Clientele's equal, the band is not always at its best. The Clientele, meanwhile, is consistently good, its breathy retro pop always on target, always well produced and always just the thing for when you're in the mood.
Thing is, that mood doesn't strike often, which is why, despite the fact that the Clientele is better, I'm much more inclined to actually listen to Belle & Sebastian. The sense of playful fun and mischief of the latter fits the bill much more often than the moody, orchestrated perfection of the former. It's the same reason why so many CD reviews of critically acclaimed discs include the phrase "in an alternate universe, these guys would be huge." That alternate universe is a place where people are always in the right mood for the best music, really think about music and listen rather than hear. People who are really into music are like that more often than not, and still the need for things that aren't challenging, that appeal to baser instincts, is great.
That said, the new Clientele disc is awfully good, besting everything in B&S's catalog on an album-by-album basis save for Arab Strap and 2003's Dear Catastrophe Waitress, a disc where the band's reach and grasp aligned wonderfully. Watch for a Clientele review on PopMatters soonish. As for that Belle & Sebastian book, it hasn't hooked me yet. I like the fact that the band has been somewhat mysterious to date, and don't really see the need to learn much about its members. At best, they'd be an ideal subject for a Mojo feature. I may change my tune if I'm able to get much further into this, but this time, the music wins out.
The mixed bag that this band's back catalog provides has been a surprise to someone who considers himself a fan. That up-and-down quality was given further context when I read the press pack that came with the forthcoming disc from the Clientele, Strange Geometry. An article in Gear magazine from 2001 quotes band leader Alasdair Maclean as saying about Belle & Sebastian, "I don't understand what's good about them. They're okay. I just think we're better. And it's not even an arrogant claim, really. It's like saying we're better than a Micky Dolenz album."
He had me until the reference to the Monkee. At first it sounded like sour grapes from a band that, while good and critically acclaimed, doesn't sell many records when compared to relative indie heavyweights like B&S. But having given Strange Geometry a few spins while on my trip through B&S's discography, I find I must agree: The Clientele is the better band. While B&S at its best is easily the Clientele's equal, the band is not always at its best. The Clientele, meanwhile, is consistently good, its breathy retro pop always on target, always well produced and always just the thing for when you're in the mood.
Thing is, that mood doesn't strike often, which is why, despite the fact that the Clientele is better, I'm much more inclined to actually listen to Belle & Sebastian. The sense of playful fun and mischief of the latter fits the bill much more often than the moody, orchestrated perfection of the former. It's the same reason why so many CD reviews of critically acclaimed discs include the phrase "in an alternate universe, these guys would be huge." That alternate universe is a place where people are always in the right mood for the best music, really think about music and listen rather than hear. People who are really into music are like that more often than not, and still the need for things that aren't challenging, that appeal to baser instincts, is great.
That said, the new Clientele disc is awfully good, besting everything in B&S's catalog on an album-by-album basis save for Arab Strap and 2003's Dear Catastrophe Waitress, a disc where the band's reach and grasp aligned wonderfully. Watch for a Clientele review on PopMatters soonish. As for that Belle & Sebastian book, it hasn't hooked me yet. I like the fact that the band has been somewhat mysterious to date, and don't really see the need to learn much about its members. At best, they'd be an ideal subject for a Mojo feature. I may change my tune if I'm able to get much further into this, but this time, the music wins out.
