Review #481: If You’re Feeling Sinister, Belle and Sebastian
#481: If You’re Feeling Sinister, Belle and Sebastian
I tend to resist Pitchfork darlings. (I realize the irony, since I’ve been worshipping at the altar of Rolling Stone for three years now.) And especially I tend to resist bands that are often described as “twee.” I mean, they have a Franz Kafka book on the cover of this album, for crying out loud. But I’m at the end of my RS journey, and I like to think that I’ve grown, so I did my best to just appreciate this album for what it is.
Belle and Sebastian is not a male-female indie duo named Belle and Sebastian, but are a seven-piece Glasgow-based group named after a 1965 children’s book & TV show. They formed in 1996 and wasted no time, releasing two albums that year. This record was put out after they signed to Jeepster, and catapulted them to indie stardom — which is of course an oxymoron, but one they were very desperate to embody in its truest sense. More on that later.
Frontman Stuart Murdoch wrote every song on the record, and even though he’s said that many of the songs are written from the perspective of a character (there are quite a few queer-themed songs, and Murdoch has called himself “straight to the point of boring myself”) they’re all clearly deeply personal. The one that struck me most was “The Stars Of Track and Field,” a song about lusting after and also being envious of athletic people. Murdoch was a runner, and even ran a marathon, before being diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and being mostly housebound for seven years. Fun fact, I ran a marathon this past October — and I would be so deeply sad if running was taken away from me. See also “The Fox in the Snow” for more lyrics about loneliness and the feeling of going nowhere.
Murdoch was diagnosed in the late Eighties and was unable to work much, but soon took on the role of a church hall caretaker, which he maintained until 2003. Which makes this album all the more interesting, since despite his Christian faith, he still sings about queer people and sexuality like they’re perfectly natural. “Seeing Other People” is clearly from the perspective of two gay boys who simply can’t get over each other; “Like Dylan in the Movies” has him singing to a boy, You’re worth the trouble and you’re worth the pain. “Judy and the Dream of Horses” follows a horny teenager on her quest to get laid, full of shameless double entendres, and ultimately encourages Judy to transform her frustration into art.
On the same hand, there are several songs pointing to Murdoch’s religious beliefs — though not in the uncomplicated, unquestioning way that Christian rock bands like, say, Underoath or Flyleaf did. (Yeah, I accidentally listened to A LOT of Christian rock when I was a kid.) “Mayfly” might be a peppy, optimistic love song for a girl he’s in love with, but it might also be a love song for God. “The Boy Done Wrong Again” deals with shame, and Murdoch begs for penance: What is it I must do to pay for all my crimes? I would do it all the time. The best song on the album might be “If You’re Feeling Sinister” itself, a song that juxtaposes depression and suicidal tendencies with the sound of children playing. It tells the story of Hillary, a girl who’s interested in S&M and bible studies, and goes to the Catholic Church for guidance. But in the end, Murdoch decides, The chances are you’ll probably feel better/ If you stayed and played with yourself. A little blasphemous, but what would the Catholic Church be without blasphemy?
Despite my indie bias, the only song that I found actually annoying was “Get Me Away From Here, I’m Dying.” It’s a tongue-in-cheek song about success, and I know it’s not taking itself seriously, but it still encompasses everything that pisses me off about indie bands. Nobody writes songs like they used to, sings Murdoch, therefore, You could either be successful or be us. ~Oh, woe is me, everything popular sucks and I’M the only person brave enough to write anything meaningful, which means I’ll never be popular!~ Well, Mr. Murdoch, you’re #481 on Rolling Stone’s list of the Greatest Albums Ever, so I guess your thesis is WRONG. And the only reason they remained indie darlings is because they refused to do any promotion for their record — it was written into their contract with Jeepster. If you’re so allergic to success, go caretake a church or something.
Again, I know they’re being facetious. I promise, so am I.
Favorite Song: “Me And The Major,” a song about an intergenerational friendship between a bitter old veteran and a young punk. Despite its crotchety protagonist, it’s probably the most fun song on the album.
Something That Made Me Like Them Way More: They wrote a song for The Simpsons. TWO DAYS AGO. Sometimes this project feels very serendipitous.
