Scottish Indie Pop legends Belle & Sebastian return to Dublin.
The best pop groups want to change the world. They want to leave an imprint that no one forgets, to do more than check out as a minor statistic in the Guinness Book of Hit Singles. They want to change the world of pop, and to engage with the politics of pop. Belle & Sebastian have re-invented the pop festival; they signed to a tiny independent label but still beat Steps to a BRIT, before sweeping into the Top 40, then the Top 20. They’ve brought their lost sixties heroine, Evie Sands, over to play a show in Glasgow. They’ve sold out a concert at the Hollywood Bowl. And, in 2014, they cut an album – their ninth – called Girls in Peacetime Want to Dance, that blends electro-glide, baroque balladry, and giant-sized Europop hooks. They deserve several accolades, each of which are rare for any band in 2014 – Belle & Sebastian are unique, unpredictable, and fiercely loved.
Part of their appeal is that Belle and Sebastian have always given the impression of being completely unaware that they are even famous. Emerging in the late nineties, they appeared to be both press and camera-shy, but also entirely self-contained; they seemed to have a secret, something built around books and films, and yet were happy to share the love, stopping just short of writing individual songs for their fans. And their fans, naturally, became obsessive, formed their own bands, started their own loosely affiliated clubs, radio shows and websites. A secret gang – who wouldn’t want to be a part of it?
But then again if you’re a band who works with Trevor Horn, Carey Mulligan and Norah Jones, you’re probably not content to lurk in the tiny shadow offered by a seven-inch single on Postcard. And if you end up on the soundtrack to Adam Curtis’s The Power Of Nightmares, or Todd Solondz’s Storytelling, as well as Juno, then there’s going to be more than a little grit and grain to your music than adjectives like “shy” and “fragile” might suggest.
Belle & Sebastian have always understood well the art of song structure. They write precise and elegantly constructed melodies, and have never skimped with middle eights, bridges and codas. Belle & Sebastian have stood as something different right from the beginning. Let’s have a quick poke around the previous eighteen years. Debut album Tigermilk (1996) was the product of a Stow College music business class that drummer Richard Colburn was taking; just 1,000 vinyl copies were pressed. In spite of huge major label interest (immortalised on the track Seymour Stein on their third album, The Boy With The Arab Strap) they initially signed to the tiny Jeepster label, then later to Rough Trade and now have their first worldwide deal with Matador Records. The key to their appeal was a sense of community. Their self-curated Bowlie festival would evolve into All Tomorrow’s Parties; they became central to a nascent message board culture, and a US loop of labels and fanzines (even writing a song about one, Chickfactor) that adored their music, their stance, and their imagery.
In Britain they famously upset the applecart in 1999 by winning the “Best Newcomers” BRIT award through the votes of their fans, faced accusations of vote rigging, and in the process have got the backs of the tabloids up (sample Daily Record headline: “Belle Boy’s At It Again”). So, clearly, they’ve been doing something right.
There’s nothing obviously tabloid-baiting on Girls in Peacetime Want to Dance, though the bold step onto the dancefloor is bound to raise some eyebrows. “Be popular – play pop, and you will win my love” is the final line on ‘The Everlasting Muse’, and is the lyrical heart of an album about love, the love of music, and the power of pop. Given that Murdoch has openly declared himself pro-bubblegum before, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that ‘Enter Sylvia Plath’, ‘The Book Of You’ and ‘Play For Today’ have keyboard hooks that recall Scandinavian pop machines past and present. The filmic loves, kitchen sink imagery and baroque touches are still there, too, don’t worry.
It’s all about trusting in the restorative power of pop music. If you’d trust anyone to write a great Europop song about Sylvia Plath, you’d trust Belle & Sebastian.