It seemed as though Belle & Sebastian had pretty much dug themselves a hole after releasing
The Boy With the Arab Strap, the painfully dull
Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like A Peasant, and
Storytelling. The latter in particular showcased all of Belle & Sebastian’s worst tendencies: lazy songwriting, unimaginative lyrics, etc. Today it’s still easily their most frustrating album and helped magnify their decline since releasing what many claim to be their tour de force:
If You’re Feeling Sinister. All signs pointed to them being one of those bands that peaked early and would go on to inevitably fizzle out, and
Storytelling added another nail in the coffin. Perhaps this drought of good albums is why their wistful pop album,
Dear Catastrophe Waitress, never shared critical success on the same level as that of
If You’re Feeling Sinister. Make no mistake though,
Dear Catastrophe Waitress returned the Scottish group back to their heyday and is chalked full of catchy, danceable pop songs and witty lyricism courtesy of Murdoch.
For those of you familiar with Belle & Sebastian’s signature style, opening track “Step into My Office, Baby” shows a markedly polished sound, one unlike that of their previous lo-fi indie/folksy designation. It’s dashing, colorful, infectious, and sinisterly clever: “I want to give you the job / A chance for overtime / Say my place at nine?” Nostalgic group harmonies elevate Murdoch’s voice and pay homage to peak ‘60s pop artists like The Beatles. Songs like the following title track continue this jaunty trend with elegant string flutters and lovely harmonization, while the jazz-tinged atmosphere of “If She Wants Me,” coupled with Stuart’s soothing falsetto suavely plays along in a less busy manner. It’s only on “Piazza, New York Catcher” and “Lord Anthony” that we see the band lifting liberally from past albums. The former is a completely stripped-down acoustic song that ends up standing out for its pacing and playful lyrics of “How many nights of talking in hotel rooms can you take? / How many nights of limping ‘round on pagan holidays? / Oh, elope with me in private and we’ll set something ablaze / A trail for the devil to erase.”
For a lot of first time listeners the entirety of
Dear Catastrophe Waitress will pass by with little to no thought of its ironic lyrical content. It’s no fault of the listener - this album is done up in such a way that the poignant words of Murdoch are veiled by the overtly poppy nature of the music - but it’s important to recognize that this is very much an emotional record, one of love, loss, longing, and deep humility. No song illustrates these points greater than the Thin Lizzy-Inspired “I’m A Cuckoo.” Beneath the uplifting horns, piano, and catchy guitar chords lies a grotesque commentary about being obsessed with the past and how difficult it can be to accept choices made and move on with life. Murdock sounds both tortured and liberated when he sings “And I loved you / You know I loved you! / It’s all over now”.
Outside of how well the lyrics convey humanity, the album itself has a very ‘60 - ‘70s feel to it; borrowing heavily from the past but still retaining that contemporary indie/pop production value. Many will argue that the band’s defining album is
If You’re Feeling Sinister, and maybe it is, but
Dear Catastrophe Waitress is a knockout album full of emotion and depth that shouldn’t be overlooked by anyone partial to Belle & Sebastian’s sound. It’s classy, it’s cultivated, it’s occasionally sad, it’s sprightly, it’s all things nostalgic and fun.
“Breaking off is misery
I see a wilderness for you and me
Punctuated by philosophy
I'm wondering how things could've been”
