Belle & Sebastian's latest release, Dear Catastrophe Waitress, makes me feel guilty for giving up the trombone. Glasgow's ambitious independent rock band continues to dish out their ironic style, marked by gleeful chords and vocals that contrast with dark lyrics.
As with any album, some tunes entice while others don't meet their worth. While older Belle & Sebastian releases like Tigermilk and If You're Feeling Sinister mop the floor with Catastrophe Waitress, a few songs live up to the $1.25 I paid to bring them home.
Just when I thought Belle & Sebastian's wind section wouldn't make the cut for the band's sixth album, I found out violins, violas, oboes, tenor and bass trombones, trumpets and alto and tenor saxes would be thrown into the mix. When used right, this mock-orchestra transcends its $1.25 worth. I'd pay twice as much for some of the songs, but I would also demand my money back for one of them.
The $2.50 Songs:
The first song, "Step Into My Office, Baby," charmed me with an upbeat chorus reminiscent of The Beatles' later work. The band channels its inner jazz ensemble in "Step Into My Office, Baby," starting the song with a conversation between harmonized flute trills and fat trombone blares. The rhythm section milks the song from that point on with offbeat emphasis, while Stuart Murdoch's vocals dance overhead. "Step Into My Office, Baby" habitually flirts with tempo variations. If you plan to tap your foot, saddle up for changing beat rates.
Catastrophe Waitress' third song, "If She Wants Me" is a decaffeinated song; It's the kind song I like waking up to. Murdoch tinkers with his soprano range while major-key guitar and a rock organ toy with the melody. The midpoint of the song is bridged with a suave eight-bar guitar solo and another eight bars of saucy organ riffs.
While the other two flare with jazz, the last $3 song, "If You Find Yourself Caught in Love," has a more '50s-rock-meets-Billie-Joel feel. Echo choruses emit a slight tinge of songs from classic Disney films. The song is like a stuffed donut: It looks likes something on the outside, but when you bite in, you find an unexpected filling. Belle & Sebastian rolls out a piano for the romanticized prelude that leads into the song's contrasting center.
The $1.25 Songs:
"You Don't Send Me" only earns its value only through its introductory trumpet solo and textured percussion. Generally, I do not like Belle & Sebastian songs that are directed at a specific person. While Murdoch can easily carry his own vocal weight, background echo vocals cause the song to overdose on too much of a good thing.
I have to give props to "Piazza, New York Catcher," mostly just for the title. The song is beautiful and meaningless, tempered with opaque indie-rock lyrics. Ignoring the esoteric nature of most personal poetry, the melody has enjoyable hues of Murdoch's acoustic folk style. It's that kind of music one could describe as just a man and his guitar.
The last price-worthy song is "I'm A Cuckoo." If scientists could harness the joy of this song's guitar harmony and condense it into a drug, they'd have Prozac. Belle & Sebastian replaces the traditionally bizarre lyrics with silliness put to music. The song concludes with a thick brass presence. It loses points with another annoying echo chorus that clogs the song's arteries, already filled with fatty low brass lines and specs of trumpet.
The Other $3.71:
Generally, speaking, every song except one has value. After all, I still have to justify the last $3.71 I paid for Dear Catastrophe Waitress.
"Asleep On A Sunbeam," "Lord Anthony" and "Wrapped Up in Books" are mediocre. Their core melodies are mellow, but boring. They're just another permutation of notes thrown into a 12-song LP. Honestly, Murdoch impresses me more when he aims for sheer simplicity, like in "Piazza, New York Catcher."
I know why they put the last song, "Stay Loose," at the end. While the organ shimmers, it still drowns under Belle & Sebastian's worst stylistic blunder. Take the minor-keyed vocals of the Squirrel Nut Zippers and insert them into Scotland's attempt to create soulful American rock. While some songs wrap up an album nicely, this song does not. It's tragic, because the best guitar solo on the LP is tacked onto "Stay Loose"'s annoying verses.
If you're a long-time Belle & Sebastian fan, don't despair; remember they still have other albums that carry more than their dollar's worth. Dear Catastrophe Waitress is a mixed bag, by my standards worth about a few bucks less than you pay for it. Still, Belle & Sebastian do display innovative ideas in a jazz vein, including a few songs that have caught onto the soundtrack of my daily life.
Chris Kark is a reporter for the Web Devil. Reach him at christopher.kark@asu.edu.
