Sinister: #3 and label stuff

[mayfly the fly]

      The online magazine allstar (http://www.allstarmag.com) named IYFS 
as it's #3 album of the year behind Radiohead and Spiritualized, which 
is pretty good company. The review follows, it's very flattering, almost 
rapturous. 


       This band is so splendid, their mixture of erudite string/
       horn arrangements, sensitively sung vocals, rolling grooves,
       rockist rhythm guitars, and carousel organs is delicious.
       These Scottish folks' cross- pollinated, lush sound savvily
       recalls the creme de la creme of erudite pop history -- so
       many things at once you don't know where to begin. 
          It's hard to resist playing the back of the bus fanboy
       game of What if: What if in the '60s the Kinks had
       collaborated with Lou Reed, produced by Burt Bacharach? Or
       in the '70s, if Nick Drake had cut a few sides with Roxy
       Music, with Jack Nitzsche producing? Or in the '80s, if Felt
       had recorded with the June Brides and Feelies, John Cale in
       the control booth? Belle and Sebastian sound like all of
       these things, sort of. Do people really think they sound
       like the Smiths? That group is so histrionic and self-
       important. B&S (not the names of anyone in the band) are too
       smart to care whether meat is murder or not. They want to
       know how it's cooked. 
          There's lots of bands that sound good, especially in
       1997. You've got Movietone, Stereolab, Yo La Tengo, Richard
       Davies, Home, Mogwai, the High Llamas, Fuck, Smog,
       Broadcast, the Elephant 6 collective, the Lilys -- everyone
       sounds good, the pop life is a party where everyhting goes
       right... except maybe in the words department. The
       conversation, the lyrics are a bit lacking in general. 
          But Belle and Sebastian's words are the tops, the
       dandy-ish extreme. They're like Oscar Wilde showing up for
       supper. There's not only a bite to their humor that recalls
       Mark E. Smith, a pathos that reminds one of Eitzel, and a
       dainty way with words that hints at Nick Drake, but an
       ironic edge that's as sharp as the Monochrome Set, and as
       full of life as the Kinks: "Could I write a requiem for you
       when you're dead?/ 'She had the moves, she had the speed, it
       went to her head'/ She never needed anything to get her
       round the track/ But when she's on her back/ She had the
       knowledge/ To get her into college" -- from "The Stars of
       Track and Field." Bravo, bravo. I'm holding my breath until
       the Matador record is released. 

                                                   -Mike McGonigal 

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