Review Summary: You'll laugh, you'll cringe, you'll be sad, you'll reflect on your life. It's Arab Strap alright!
Arab Strap are truly one of a kind. The duo of vocalist Aidan Moffat and multi-instrumentalist Malcolm Middleton have been at it since 1995, carving out a unique blend of indie rock, slowcore, post-rock, electronica, and whatever eclectic genre influences they throw into the blender. The instrumentals are incredibly dynamic, always interesting to listen to, with all of the moving parts coming together to perfection. This would be the absolute standout for any band, but Moffat is the soul of the group, with his witty, sardonic, cynical, and incredibly humorous lyrics and storytelling constantly demanding your full attention, as well as the lyrics in front of you to read along. His delivery is one of the most peculiar I have ever heard, usually in the form of spoken-word poetry with the flow of an indie rapper, but drifting flawlessly into beautifully soft, sung lines. All of this comes in his native, thick, gruff Scottish accent. It will really take you off-guard at first, but once you get familiar with it, there is nothing more rewarding. Arab Strap scratches a very particular itch for me that nothing else can.
In their early days, the band still had their diverse influences instrumentally, but at their beating heart, were absolutely still a slowcore band. Even with all their peculiarities, they usually stuck to a downtrodden, sparse atmosphere and slowly paced, deliberate structures with huge post-rock builds.
Philophobia is the definitive album in that style. They slowly added more and more genres into the mix on each album. A band that was already distinct because of Moffat became even more distinct with Middleton crafting some of the most fascinating soundscapes in indie rock. Putting that together with Moffat’s aforementioned particular set of skills was pure magic. Arab Strap called it quits in 2006, with Moffat in particular saying they had a good run and that the subject matter of his lyrics only worked at a particular age. Fifteen years later, he had a change of heart, and the band popped back up again with what is quite possibly their best album,
As Days Get Dark, releasing in 2021. Moffat couldn’t have been more wrong, and he continues to prove that on their third reunion album,
Half-Told Tales.
Moffat’s penmanship and ability to craft a tale have always been crucial for Arab Strap. His delivery really makes that unavoidable; you understand every word in his spoken delivery, leaving me totally gripped by each one. I am not one to really gush over lyricism. The instrumentals and overall feeling of the music are usually what sell a band to me, but Moffat more than deserves his flowers here. I actually enjoy reading along and chewing on these stories long after they are finished playing. I can see why Moffat initially thought a modern version of Arab Strap wouldn’t work. What you write in your 20s is quite different from what you would write in your 40s and now 50s. The subject matter of early Arab Strap was predominantly centered around Moffat’s youthful romantic follies and failures, as well as more than a heavy dose of drinking and vulgarity for punch.
The now 53-year-old’s writing has aged like a fine wine. He takes on a variety of very modern-day subjects: social media, politics, the manosphere, and everything that defines our digital age. He takes these topics bluntly, but in a way that only he can; it’s never preachy or filled with eyerolling buzzwords. His trademark sarcastic wit, pessimism, and comedic wisecracking are on full display. “Fighting For You” walks that fine line perfectly, taking on right-wing British politics in a scathing takedown that still manages to be entertaining due to the wordplay, particularly in the bridge highlighting the dichotomy of luxurious politicians and the working class as Moffat passionately raises his voice. Despite his usual sleepy, spoken inflection, he has an understated range to him, coming through when the song calls for it. The track, instrumentally courtesy of Middleton, is an absolute banger and one of their most traditionally structured songs, with an incredibly catchy hook to boot. He has a way of crafting such wonderfully off-beat vocal melodies that even when spoken, are ones you will remember. There is an electric, bouncing main riff, but also layered synths and acoustic guitar taking over the mid-section, with a beautiful melody backing it before that noisy riff comes back.
The main focus and through line of Moffat’s writing, however, is the reality of aging. This bleeds through the entire album, with noticeable lines and references in most songs, but the two that take it on directly are “Be a Man” and “Glamour Magick.” The former is essentially a letter written to his son about his worries for the future and the unique modern challenges the youth of today face. It’s heartfelt, funny, and incredibly poignant. The latter is some of Moffat’s funniest writing about all of the anti-aging products out there and the futility of keeping up with it all, with references to the Norwood Scale, Turkish hair transplants, and caffeinated shampoo before descending into the outlandish, with lines that are having a lot of fun with the subject matter. Lines such as “I pee in the sink, wash my face with my piss” and “I bought big fat lips from a backstreet surgeon, then I bathed in the blood of a thousand virgins,” with his usual off-kilter inflection, got a few audible laughs out of me and is Moffat at his best.
Beneath the comedic exterior, there is a genuine deep sadness and vulnerability that has always painted his writing. “Gape” is maybe the most classic Arab Strap song the band has written since their reunion, featuring a more stripped-back slowcore structure with pulsating electronics and a quality build-up culminating in some fantastic vocal repetition that concludes the song. Lyrically, the song is classic Arab Strap as well, with the sarcasm, references to body fluids, and grotesquely funny physical body descriptions hiding a deep, depressing pain about wasting your days away in a self-destructive routine, thinking something will change. It wouldn’t be an Arab Strap album if you didn’t laugh, cringe or reflect a little. Rest assured, I could delve into each song here in depth, but the album is jam-packed with humor, brilliant wordplay, insightful observations on the world, and heartaching beauty and despair that make Arab Strap what they are.
Malcolm Middleton also plays a significant role in making Arab Strap what they are, and he is also at the top of his game here. Let’s go back to “Glamour Magick,” which has a juicy bassline that drives the song forward, with a hypnotic, eerie-sounding riff playing throughout the song, giving you an odd sense of unease, and a tasteful synthline adding some dynamic variation in the second half. “You You You” was an obvious choice for a lead single and is one of the band’s most expertly crafted tracks. The song has a danceable disco-type beat with a dark undercurrent and some crunchy, thick guitars coming in towards the mid-point. Tambourines and faint backing vocals add even more layers to the mix, and the band even throws in a few traditional rip-roaring guitar solos towards the end. It has everything you could possibly want in an Arab Strap song, with Moffat’s understated delivery and repetitious hook rising throughout the song, creating something that you will find yourself repeating.
Half-Told Tales retains much of the feeling of their other reunion albums but is still fresh, while introducing a bit more of a guitar-focused direction than the previous two did. It’s a great mixture of the old and the new, one that really suits their sound. The instrumentation is as dynamic as ever, with subtle orchestration, rippling beats, lush guitar, noisy riffs, gentle acoustic strumming, and a few songs featuring some screaming saxophone moments that really jump out. Sometimes all of these at once. Is it post-punk, is it indie rock, is it slowcore, is it electronica? I don’t really know, but I love it. There is an amount of variety here that always keeps you guessing, every song is an adventure, and you never know what you’re going to get thanks to Middleton’s layering and thoughtful songcraft.
The closing trio ends the album on the highest of high points. “Ampersand” is a depressing song about a relationship that is clearly not working and hasn’t for years, but the couple still need each other. Instrumentally, it’s jaw-droppingly gorgeous, with a sense of melancholy, intricately layered guitar melodies, and keyboard letting you feel all of the emotions. Moffat plays it perfectly as well, with his downbeat, almost hungover-sounding delivery, sounding so imperfect, genuine, and human. “Fragments” may be the pick of the entire album and may be the ideal synthesis of the old and new Arab Strap. It takes its time building in that traditional slowcore structure, with pounding, clicking synths and a rising guitar melody that gradually rises and rises. A loud, simple-sounding but evocative synth plays over the longing hook, with Moffat pouring his heart out. After it fades out, a saxophone takes over for a little before a fat guitar riff crashes the party, taking over fully before a full noisy crescendo, with all pieces working entirely in tandem. It’s also a song that is still dreary and gloomy but with a positive message about stopping procrastinating and living your life while you’re still here, something I certainly need to hear from time to time.
Half-Told Tales closes with the absolutely haunting “Beats Per Minute,” whose stark post-rock melodies and instrumentation share much in common with their country and labelmates Mogwai. It’s distressing, odd, and mysterious, with somber, loud synths and background noises creating something almost apocalyptic-sounding. The song leaves us with the repeated line “We only have this moment, and it's already gone,” nothing like a little existential dread to end your album.
It’s fascinating to go back and read that Arab Strap broke up initially, mainly due to Moffat’s concerns that he wouldn’t be able to produce lyrically given his age. What is more interesting is that he is clearly the same guy, but writing from a massively different perspective. The once youthful womanizing drunkard is now a father worried about his own mortality, and who better to write about that than a man with clearly a lot of regrets? His signature style remains the same, and he’s still miserable, but he’s just miserable about probably more important things. What was once tied to the adventures and mistakes of youth is now the inverse, tied to the challenges of aging and the realization that time is running out. Now that’s full circle.
