Glaswegian septet Belle & Sebastian brings spring a little early to listening ears at Dartmouth (and a little more permanently than those apocalyptically warm days last week). The band, which is usually considered precious and bookish, flexes its muscles with its newest release, "The Life Pursuit," out on Matador Records this month. Beat-oriented and focused, the sound is more "pop" than "twee" -- the label applied, often pejoratively, to the band -- and for those clinging to the hope that here lies our generation's version of The Smiths, this album will be slightly disappointing. But for those looking for an album whose tracks glimmer with energy and wit as well as musical sophistication, "The Life Pursuit" will be on repeat for a long, long time.
The band's trajectory through seven full-length albums has not been an easy one. Following two critically acclaimed cult releases in 1996, "Tigermilk" and "If You're Feeling Sinister," as well as a series of EPs, the band had a mid-life crisis of sorts. Their highly anticipated third release, "The Boy With the Arab Strap" in 1998, was initially received by critics and fans as substandard. Weaker releases -- "Storytelling" and "Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like A Peasant" -- soon followed. Much of the weakness was blamed on the democratization of the then-octet as lead singer and guitarist Stuart Murdoch delegated some of the songwriting to fellow guitarist Stevie Jackson, former bandmate Stuart David and former cellist Isobel Campbell. In addition, Murdoch and Campbell had entered into a relationship that exacted Fleetwood Mac-like tolls on the remaining members (violinist and vocalist Sarah Martin, pianist Chris Geddes, percussionist Richard Colburn, Mick Cooke on trumpet and guitar, and bassist Bob Kildea). After Campbell left the band in 2002, the remaining members of Belle & Sebastian dusted themselves off and headed back to the studio. Murdoch took back the writing reigns and enlisted the help of producer Trevor Horn (Yes, t.A.T.u.); the resulting "Dear Catastrophe Waitress" was widely hailed as a comeback, containing the band's biggest UK hit to date with "I'm a Cuckoo". The mid-life crisis, fans hoped, was over.
Realizing the promise of redemption fans glimpsed in 2003's "Dear Catastrophe Waitress," "The Life Pursuit" swaggers across decades and genres with a confidence and poise that prove the comeback album is no fluke. This, however, is not the Belle & Sebastian that recorded "Tigermilk" as a university project, and it is hard to compare this album to those earlier works. There is a lot of experimentation -- fat synth lines, hand claps, atypically intricate guitar work, '70s glam rock stylings -- but the genius in Murdoch's lyrics remains. His characters are as quirky, his observations as perceptive, his wordplay as uniquely his own as ever.
Next to "Dear Catastrophe Waitress," "The Life Pursuit" is a more cohesive and consistently strong effort. Though the songs may skip from one influence to the next in rapid succession, the shimmering production of Tony Hoffer (Beck, Air) ties the tracks together. Murdoch's lyrics explore the same themes of identity and redemption, whether through religion or music, throughout. At times, the songs sacrifice intimacy for a noticeably more assertive voice; the heartstrings are not tugged as hard and as often as before. For hardcore fans, this could be a serious flaw. But the '60s pop core and bookish lyrics that endeared Belle & Sebastian to the indie world have not entirely disappeared: they have just been reframed.
The album opens with "Act of the Apostles," whose harmonies and melodies are as upbeat and beautiful as the Beach Boys at their peak. Hiding under the aural cotton candy, in typical Belle & Sebastian form, are somber lyrics about a young girl's search for meaning, asking "What would I do to believe?" In an example of the album's cohesion, this narrative is revisited nine tracks later in "Act of the Apostle II." The last minute of this song even returns to the refrain of the first, a reprisal more reminiscent of musicals than studio albums.
Stronger songs on the album take Belle & Sebastian back to the '70s, either with the Jackson 5-esque pop of "For the Price of a Cup of Tea" or the disco-funk of "Song for Sunshine." "The Blues Are Still Blue" is reminiscent of the glam-rock shuffle of the David Bowie circa "Hunky Dory" and contains one of the catchiest choruses: "I left my lady in the launderette / You can put some money on it, / You can place a little bet, / That when I see my lady, / The black will be white and the white will be black / But the blues are still blue."
As exciting as these experimentations in sound are, those songs that return to true Belle & Sebastian form are equally strong and especially comforting to those who hold their earlier albums dear. The finest of these is a slower respite from the pep and cheer of the other track, "Dress Up In You." Beginning, "I am the singer, I am the singer in the band," the song could be taken as autobiographic, but Murdoch slowly reveals that the singer is a has-been female songstress, alternately serenading a rival and sending her a kiss-off. With Murdoch's sotto voice placed against Belle & Sebastian's characteristic soaring orchestration, even the cruelest lines and "f--- you"s sound like embraces.
"The Life Pursuit" is a great record from a great band. Belle & Sebastian's intelligent lyrics and diverse soundscapes always invite further analysis, but with so much energy and joy this most recent release is the easiest to just get lost in. With such a cult following and tumultuous history, each Belle & Sebastian release is placed under a lot of pressure and scrutiny. In "The Life Pursuit," the band has certainly gained the strength and confidence to meet this challenge and stand tall.
