Sinister: Sinister Junios Reporter reporting for duty.

[David Howie]

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 aren’t 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.  It’s 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 Stevie’s 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.  That’s a rather boring question, in that it 
means I have to think, pines Struan.  You tell me the issues and I’ll 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.

‘There’s 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.  ‘There’s a portrait…’  It’s glorious.  Euphony 
abounds as the angel ascends to a sonorous heaven.  ‘Epiphany’ lies dormant, 
too limp a word to describe Murdoch’s iridescent genius.

Much shuffling of people.  Positions assumed; instruments swapped: they’re 
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 you’re all not allowed in yet 
but somehow you’ve broken in.  We’ll arrange some coupon system so you can 
come back and see us when we’ve practised a little, jokes Murdoch.  
“COUPONS?  You give me COUPONS?” jests Geddes.  They don’t get the 
reference, says Murdoch.  We don’t 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.

There’s Too Much Love, though (the song Nick Dastoor described as the 
typical B&S sound that they’ve 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 they’re recording.  However, the director didn’t like it so 
it probably won’t 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.  Murdoch’s  back at his 
lyrical best, poetic (but not flowery) lyrics which retain coherency and a 
sense of “knowing what they want to say” (Cf. Women’s 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 don’t 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 can’t be Keith and Mick at the same time.”  Rapturous laughter.  
Then they play it and it rocks.  Sorry, it BelleandSebastians.  It’s 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: it’s 
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.  That’s 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 at missprint.org. To unsubscribe
     send "unsubscribe sinister" or "unsubscribe sinister-digest" to
     majordomo at 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                 +-+
+-------------------------------------------------------------------------+