The Scene: John McIntyre Hall, instruments strewn across the stage: Wurlitzer; opaque black electric guitar; transparent bass; blond electro-coustic with a turtle shell scratch-plate; drums (drums are just drums arent they); piano; cello (lovely instrument); and violin. The pasty-faced vegan geeks sit cross-legged abreast the tabernacle, where the angelic chimings of Belle and Sebastian is sacrificed for the next 45 minutes. There they come, look. Its them. Stuart. Richie. Stevie. Wee Chris. Surly Isobel. Lovely Sarah. Oh my God, a Maisonette? Surely not Legal Man live. Hmmm. Worried look adorns the face of young Howie. Stuart scurries about collecting lyric sheets as the Belles play an Introductory ditty. Low melodic shuffling chords hide behind the irascible drawl of Stevies harmonica solo. One-and-a-half minutes of aural egg-shells; Stuart still looking fer tit-bits. He steps to the microphone, mumbles something about opening the floor for questions. Stuart, what are the issues? Hmm. Ahh. Well. Thats a rather boring question, in that it means I have to think, pines Struan. You tell me the issues and Ill tell you my attitude towards them, he jests. Murdoch moves for the piano, Sarah steps to the fore adjusting the lead microphone so as to allow the audience to here her violin. Theres a portrait *Clunk* in a backroom, which I keep *Clunk* for days *Clunk* Stops. Are you about finished moving that? Laughter implores the room. Stevie breaks into a smile; or, rather, a smile breaks into Stevie. Back to the song. Theres a portrait Its glorious. Euphony abounds as the angel ascends to a sonorous heaven. Epiphany lies dormant, too limp a word to describe Murdochs iridescent genius. Much shuffling of people. Positions assumed; instruments swapped: theyre ready. I envisage the band as a sort of amorphous cosmic space-jazz septuplet. Na, not really. He said: I envisage the band as some sort of building that still has its scaffolding up and youre all not allowed in yet but somehow youve broken in. Well arrange some coupon system so you can come back and see us when weve practised a little, jokes Murdoch. COUPONS? You give me COUPONS? jests Geddes. They dont get the reference, says Murdoch. We dont get the reference. Needless to say that I Fought in a War remains a wholesale Love song as well as love song: and, thus, fantastic if a bit obvious. Theres Too Much Love, though (the song Nick Dastoor described as the typical B&S sound that theyve been driving toward) is frenetic and ecstatic. Vintage Belle and Sebastian augmented by outstanding performances all round. My God, this GIG was good. Missed Bowlie: sad. Stuart introduces the next track as a song that was going to be on the soundtrack that theyre recording. However, the director didnt like it so it probably wont see light of day fer a while. Murdoch was going to detail the story of the film (as the song was scheduled to be at the end of the film) but he realised that that would give away the ending. Aww. Centred around a duopoly of riffs: curt but skewed LLPJ riff played out over and over for 3 bars then raved up for the fourth. Murdochs back at his lyrical best, poetic (but not flowery) lyrics which retain coherency and a sense of knowing what they want to say (Cf. Womens Realm, The Model). The story is told from the view of an ageing director/actor who has sold out. Take another tired story make it into another boring movie. However, the protagonist redeems himself by returning to the smaller stage, the theatre. The whole sell-out/integrity of art theme centred lyric delivered against a poppy (sorry, loose description) tune. Then a pretty straight version of The Wrong Girl, which is no preparation for what comes next. Sympathy For The Devil (nee a Rolling Stones song). You do it, I dont want to sing. Well, I would sing but I want to concentrate on the guitar opines Stevie. Ahh, go on. But I want to be Mick. I cant be Keith and Mick at the same time. Rapturous laughter. Then they play it and it rocks. Sorry, it BelleandSebastians. Its grate. Capital GRATE. Stevie jokes his way through imitation Mick dancing and pointing augmenting this performance by singing the last verse in a faux-Mick falsetto. They pulled it off. Despite the fact it was a shambles, if you know what I mean. This song leaks into Legal Man, the maisonettes trying their hardest to contain their inner-laughter. The girls seem unenthusiastic but the song-that-should-be-a-shambles-live is not: its Legal Man it makes you want to dance. It makes you want to sing. It makes you want to live. It makes you want Belle and Sebastian. It makes it all make sense. Well, maybe not. Ahem. Settles. Thats it. Damn, no space to deconstruct what it all means Sinister Junior Reporter, David Howie. PS They've got a new track called: "Take Your Carriage Clock and Shove It" Teehee. _________________________________________________________________________ Get Your Private, Free E-mail from MSN Hotmail at http://www.hotmail.com. +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+ +---+ Brought to you by the Sinister mailing list +---+ To send to the list mail sinister@missprint.org. To unsubscribe send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to majordomo@missprint.org. WWW: http://www.missprint.org/sinister +-+ "sinsietr is a bit freaky" - stuart david, looper +-+ +-+ "legion of bedroom saddo devotees" "peculiarly deranged fanbase" +-+ +-+ "pasty-faced vegan geeks... and we LOST!" - NME April 2000 +-+ +-+ "frighteningly named Sinister List organisation" - NME May 2000 +-+ +-+ Nee, nee mun pish, chan pai dee kwa +-+ +-------------------------------------------------------------------------+