Soundbites
By Dan Crossen
Oct. 15, 2003 9:00 p.m.
Belle and Sebastian “Dear Catastrophe
Waitress” Rough Trade
In his diary for the liner notes of its new album, “Dear
Catastrophe Waitress,” Belle and Sebastian front man Stuart
Murdoch rather awkwardly uses the word “indie” to
describe the feeling of his native Glasgow in the summer. He
justifies his awkward prose style with the explanation that, hey,
“there are moves to keep changing the meaning of that word
until it either doesn’t mean anything, or it means all things
to all people.” Belle and Sebastian, once the definition of
British indie in the 1990s, seemed for a few years to be mired in
its own inevitable descent into meaninglessness. However, with the
release of this new record, the group has shown that it really
wants to take the other road; better, they seem to say, to be
something to everyone than everything to no one.
A warning to fans of the band’s early records: You may
find yourselves slightly bewildered when you pop in the record and
press play for the first time. The band here announces immediately
its intentions to prove that it has more in its repertoire than
wistful folk-pop. The next song, the album’s title track, is
closer in songwriting style to traditional B&S fare, telling
the story of another beleaguered underdog, but the production
belies an impulse towards a denser, more rock-oriented sound.
This album has enough strong tracks to be a surprisingly
encouraging sign following the band’s disastrous last two
outings. Still, it would be hard to call this record a return to
form. While it’s refreshing to hear a change from a band that
was often accused of monotony, it’s still unclear whether
that change is going to end up being a positive or negative in the
band’s evolution.
-Dan Crossen
