It is my first day of four days off and I
decided to get an early start by writing a music review! This next one took a
while because it was long and also new to me, meaning I needed a bit more time
to grok it in its fullness.
Disc 1242 is… Push Barman to Open Old Wounds
Artist:
Belle and Sebastian
Year of Release: 2005 but
featuring music from 1997-2001
What’s up with the
Cover?
Is that the titular barman on the left? He does not appear to be pushing, more
like studiously ignoring. The lovely couple in the lower right is not on the
same page. She seems drawn to the barkeep’s aggressive disinterest, whereas he
is more interested in the camera.
How I Came to Know
It: My
friend Chris’ son Kevin is now a grown-assed man in his own right. A while back
Kevin and I were talking music and, hearing that I liked Belle and Sebastian,
he recommended I check out this record. So…I did. There is hope for today’s
youth after all. Thanks, Kevin.
How It Stacks Up: When I reviewed “The Life Pursuit” back in
2014 I thought I was done with Belle and Sebastian at five albums. Since then I’ve
purchased three more so now have eight. I debated about whether “Push Barman…”
qualified, because it is technically a compilation of seven different EPs of 3-4
songs each released from 1997-2001, not a record in its own right. While this
might qualify as a “best of” the fact that they didn’t leave anything out gives
the record no curating advantage. For this reason I shall stack it up! Out of eight
Belle and Sebastian albums I rank it…3rd.
Ratings: 4 stars
Double albums are a dangerous undertaking. It isn’t often that a band can
maintain consistent quality over that length of time, and that many songs. “Push
Barman to Open Old Wounds” manages the feat, struggling at times under the
weight of 25 songs but ultimately staying upright. How do they do it? Volume!
Also, excellence.
I had seen the individual EPs that collectively comprise this record as
they were released but could never bring myself to spending $10 for 4 songs. “Push
Barman…” makes me both regretful and happy about that decision. I regret not
having this music in my collection sooner, but I’m happy to have them all now in
such a convenient package. This is particularly true in a time where my addiction
to music has led to a dearth of shelf space.
Sometimes a band’s very early work can be disappointing, with half-formed
ideas or poor production (the latter often the result of limited financing). Belle
and Sebastian suffer from neither deficiency. The production is a bit simpler
than what would come later but the mixing is excellent on all these EPs, with a
crisp clear separation of sound that is full and round but gentle enough to
serve the whimsical pop songs the band creates.
As for the songs, Belle and Sebastian have an art for writing a pop
melody that rivals McCartney. The songs don’t have the same ear-worm quality,
but they have the same effortless breezy lilt. They feel like it has always existed, rather than having been
slowly coaxed out of careful, considered songwriting.
Stuart Murdoch’s vocals are airy and light, almost adolescent, if
adolescents could speak with the world-weary wisdom of middle-age. His band has
an orchestral quality, precise and energetic without ever lurching or reaching for
a note. These songs can get pretty twee, with their artful observations on
ordinary life and all the “feels” it can give you, but they do it so well you
never feel manipulated.
Add to this the band’s talent for knowing just what instruments are
needed to fill in the colour and you have a record that has stood the test of
time. Sometimes piano rules, sometimes guitar and sometimes a horn section. On “Lazy Line Painter Jane” a reverberating
guitar and the Kim Carnes-like vocals of gust singer Monica Queen give the song
an early eighties anthem quality. It is just what it needs. On “Photo Jenny” a slow strum on what I
think is a Rickenbacker gives the song most of its full and bright sound, and
the horn section fills in the rest.
There are a couple experiments. The spoken word in “A Century of Elvis” feels like you are trapped in some Scottish
airport bar having to hear a drunk at the table next to you tell about that
time he met Elvis and “La Pastie de la
Bourgoisie” is overwrought and the efforts to throw a French phrase in
feels affected.
However, these moments are the exception, and the album overall has a
surprising capacity to maintain its energy and continuity despite its disparate
origins. It isn’t often I heap praise on a double-album, but this is one of
those times.
Best tracks: Dog on Wheels, The State I Am In, Lazy Line Painter
Jane, Photo Jenny, Beautiful, I Know Where the Summer Goes, The Gate, Slow
Graffiti, Take Your Carriage Clock and Shove It, I’m Waking Up To Us
No comments:
Post a Comment