Sinister: you are beautiful, but you don't mean a thing to me.

[miss lou]

hello sinister.

well. i bought it.

i unwrapped it my car, the soothing sounds of 'i know
where the summer goes' preparing me for newness.

i appreciated the lovely cover, the lovely cd art. 

i put it in, lit my cigarette, put the car in reverse.


and then i suddenly could not move. i couldn't. 

was there some sort of accident? i thought. is someone
next to me listening to some awful rabble drowning out
my band?

no. 

it was just 'step into my office, baby.' at top
volume.

i almost dropped my cigarette on my leg.

***

so. i don't like it.

at all.

we begin with 'belle and sebastian SING BROADWAY!!!!!'
and then neatly lead into stuart murdoch's playdate
with big john shaft and prince. piazza provides one
gleaming moment of hope, only to collapse into a
series of songs i suspect i already heard once in the
waiting room at the dentist's office. 

yes, 'lord anthony' is nice, another tiny shred intact
among the tatters. but then it just all goes to hell
again.

as for all the talk about 'if you find yourself caught
in love,' i have two words for this song (and maybe
for the album): boxed wine.

'roy walker.' right.

'stay loose' offers a weird the clash-the faint thing
with hints of 'and your bird can sing.' which, when
wrapping up a whole that really reminded me of pet
sounds, was disconcerting for me.

i think this may be the weirdest thing i've ever
heard. and i don't know if it will grow on me.

people have said i am being too harsh, and perhaps i
am. i realize all bands must grow and change in order
to maintain interest and creative genius, etc. but
still. this near-total reinvention adds up to a really
loud sound missing all the charm belle and sebastian
used to swim in.

i always liked the band for sounding twee without
really being twee lyrically; i liked the happy flutes
and strings and effeminate male vocals singing about
dying, killing people, etc.

not that those things were an extenion of what i like
to do, of course, but the wierd, dark, near-creepy
lyrics made the songs perfect, i think. 

now, we have sunbeams. prayers. lots and lots of happy
love.

and while those things may have their place, i'd like
to hear them done well if i must listen to them, with
some discretion. saccharine sentimentality has no
place in my stereo, at least. 

so here, i will say, with much sorrow, i think
isobel's solo album is BETTER than dcw.


.

..

.....


*weeps*



xo.lou.  

=====
www.somewhereinbetween.net

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