A Song Or Two, A Boy, A Girl, and A Rendezvous

As far as official mid-career biographies of indie bands go, Paul Whitelaw’s Belle & Sebastian: Just A Modern Rock Story is well above average as it presents a detailed history of the band and most of its members, and provides some insight into their character and group dynamic. It’s an excellent source for trivia, and does a good job of putting their catalog into some perspective*, but since it is approved by the band themselves, the book often seems to be leaving out significant chunks of sensitive information key to the book’s narrative. In particular, the writer often makes references to Isobel Campbell and Stuart Murdoch’s turbulant relationship, but never elaborates on the topic in any satisfactory way, instead electing to drop tantalizing hints that left me frustrated and wishing that they had never brought it up at all.

The story arc presented by Whitelaw is clear and logical, if not especially dramatic. The first third of the book is spent getting acquainted with the key members of the group, placing emphasis on primary songwriter Stuart Murdoch and founding member Stuart David, and giving the reader about as much historical information on supporting players Sarah Martin and Mick Cooke as is neccessary. The second act focuses on their debut and immediate success, and the third on overcoming the relative disappointments of their third and fourth albums, and how they eventually evolved into the confident, professional band that they are today. Though it is clear that the author is often making a deliberate attempt to debunk certain myths about the band (certainly in terms of common misconceptions of what they are like in their personal lives – he goes through great pains to make sure that the reader knows that Murdoch is – OHMYGOD – an athlete!), the notion that the band is very punk in spirit in spite of their gentle music is trumpeted at any given opportunity, even when the claim is somewhat specious.

In order to maintain the dramatic structure outlined above, it was necessary for Whitelaw to depart from his general tone of B&S boosterism in order to present The Boy With The Arab Strap and Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like A Peasant as flawed and uneven albums. Though most everyone (including the band themselves) can agree on that premise, I strongly disagree about many of the songs he deemed to be unworthy, especially since his selections generally follow a sort of party line that seems very common in my strictly anecdotal experience with B&S fandom. I simply cannot understand how anyone could think of “The Rollercoaster Ride” from Arab Strap to be a dud, for example – that’s surely one of the top ten songs in their catalog! Similarly, I will never understand the contempt many people have for Stevie Jackson’s sweetly melancholy “Chickfactor” while his inferior “Seymour Stein” is generally held up as a gem.

Belle & Sebastian “Women’s Realm” – The most egregious example of Whitelaw’s questionable taste, however, is in his dispassionate dismissal of the glorious “Women’s Realm,” the song I have long considered to be the wildly uneven Fold Your Hands‘ saving grace. I honestly can’t comprehend how anyone who likes the band could not love that song, especially since it seems to distill most everything great about their catalog into just under five minutes. Not only that, but it makes the best possible use of Isobel Campbell’s narrow vocal range, and plays up her undeniable chemistry with Murdoch by casting her as his foil for the final time on record. Ultimately, it’s that gorgeous round at the end that gets to me, as a handful of overdubbed Murdochs overlap as they sing some lines which rank among the most resonant words in their songbook, if just for me: Are you coming or are you not? / There is nothing that would sort you out / An interesting way of life / Deny yourself the benefits of being alive. (Click here to buy it from Amazon.)

*For some reason I never seemed to notice how quickly they were turning out product in the late 90s – between June 1996 and October 1997 they had released two albums and three EPs – possibly because I started with If You’re Feeling Sinister in late ’96 and acquired the rest out of order as they became available to me through the beginning of 1998.