August 2017 - Sounds Delightful

When I saw an announcement, nearly six months ago, that Belle and Sebastian were going to be playing at the North Carolina Museum of Art in Raleigh this summer, I had mixed emotions. Most were good. I love Belle and Sebastian. They’ve been one of my longest-lived favorite bands, and I’ve continued to buy and really enjoy their albums, even nine albums in to their 19-year career. There aren’t many bands who can keep up that standard. It’s also been 14 years since I last saw them live, at the Tower Theater near Philly, in 2003.¹ I’d been hoping for years that I’d get a chance to see them again, but if setlist.fm is to be believed, they don’t exactly favor the American South — and this appears to be the first and only time they’ve ever visited North Carolina.

Three Belle and Sebastian concert tickets. Saving the stubs was a lot more fun in the old days.

All good, right? Yes, but I had one major concern — the venue. The North Carolina Museum of Art is lovely, but as a general rule I don’t love the type of outdoor shows that tend to happen at that sort of venue. The biggest issue is that it’s almost too nice, thus attracting people who are only moderately enthusiastic about the actual concert. Instead, you get people who are like “Yeah, I kind of like this band, and wouldn’t it be great to sit outside in the grass and have a picnic and hear some music?” It would be great, but for me it also encourages a less vibrant environment than you might get in other settings. By contrast, not many people are going to go stand shoulder-to-shoulder in a crowd on a cement floor for several hours just because it sounds like a fun night out. (Well, maybe if they’re 19.) But, as a rule, at a more traditional club-type venue, you get a crowd that is there primarily because of the music.

The night of the show, July 31, could only be described as charmed. After several weeks of high 90s and oppressive humidity, the Raleigh weather was miraculously cool and dry. I attended the show with my husband and some of my favorite friends — two of whom brought chocolate cake. I purchased perhaps the nicest looking and best fitting concert t-shirt of my life. And the band was really good.

Belle and Sebastian — despite their advanced ages, which singer Stuart Murdoch joked about throughout the set — sounded great and appeared to be having a lot of fun. With nine albums to draw from, they were able to put together a really wonderful setlist. They favored their two best albums, Dear Catastrophe Waitress and The Life Pursuit, and played several of my favorite tracks from those two: the wordy, fast-paced “Sukie in the Graveyard,” the jaunty yet wry “I’m a Cuckoo,” and best of all, the acoustic ballad “Piazza, New York Catcher,” which manages to be both achingly beautiful and contain lines like “Piazza, New York catcher/Are you straight or are you gay?”²

Stuart Murdoch with keytar. — Stuart with keytar. I did not take this picture.

The band played a few lesser known tracks, including two new songs that will be on their upcoming album. New songs are always a hard sell at a live show, but if there’s one thing that will make people sit up and pay attention, it’s playing a keytar. Stuart broke his out for the brand new single “We Were Beautiful,” and it definitely caused me to poke my husband and say “Stand up, he’s playing a keytar!” It’s the first and only time I’ve seen one played live. I would recommend this approach to any band looking to garner some excitement for new songs at their shows.

The other best-represented album was The Boy with the Arab Strap, a disc I tend to forget about. But the band’s enthusiastic renditions reminded me of just how good those songs are. The title track was especially fun, as Stuart recruited a bunch of people from near the front to come up and dance on stage with the band, a scene that recalled all the kids dancing in A Charlie Brown Christmas. And, actually, the piano in “Arab Strap” is kind of reminiscent of “Linus and Lucy,” a connection I’ve never made before. It’s also a testament to the band’s skill and the sound quality of the show (as well as my increased pop knowledge) that for the first time I understood the line in “Seymour Stein”: “He reminded you of Johnny/Before he went electronic.”

So at this point, it sounds like my worries about the venue were unfounded. Not entirely. Despite the great music being played, the band’s obvious joy in performing, Stuart’s charming banter, and the overall idyllic setting, the vibe at the show was actually a little lame. Most people were sitting down, which dampens the excitement and poses a bit of a quandary. If you want to stand, are you being rude by blocking the view of those sitting behind you? Or should you say “screw it, this is a rock show!”? I went with the latter, though my self-consciousness at being the only one standing within a ten person radius resulted in a little less swagger than my internal dialogue might suggest. Not surprisingly, there were also a lot of people using their phones. This is a scourge of modern concert-going, regardless of venue, and I really cannot understand why people pay good money to see a show, and then spend a significant portion of it looking at Facebook, surely one of the least satisfying activities of modern life.

The overall effect of the crowd but a bit of a damper on my mood for while. I couldn’t help wishing that more people at the show were engaging with the music with a bit more abandon. However, my love for Belle and Sebastian’s music gradually overcame the subdued environment, and my enjoyment of the show grew — reaching a peak during the exemplary encore. The band came back out for two songs — an ideal number — and they were two of the best. “Party Line,” from their most recent LP, combines dance music with wit in a way that few bands have even attempted: “Don’t dance near the lights/Cause the bears eat the pretty ones.” And who doesn’t love hearing their favorite song played as the final number? “The Blues are Still Blue” is everything that’s great about Belle and Sebastian: clever and thoughtful, but also melodic and upbeat, with little falsetto bits and a hooky, sing-a-long chorus.

At the end, I suppose the question that I was left asking myself is “why go to a show?” Clearly people have different reasons: to hear music, to spend time with friends, to get out of the house. But for me, I think the answer is that it’s an opportunity to experience a bit of transcendence — to forget yourself, to give yourself over to music you love in a way you can’t in everyday life. It’s a high standard for a concert to meet, and many will fall short. There’s a degree of irony too, as this transcendence is a deeply personal experience, but also one that requires the cooperation of your fellow concert goers. It’s just easier to achieve when everyone around you is feeling it too.

While I enjoyed seeing Belle and Sebastian again after so long, I couldn’t help coming away from the show a little sad that it hadn’t matched the highs of some of my best concert experiences. Still, I never really regret seeing a band I love. And, hey, I got to sit outside in the grass with my friends, have a picnic, and hear some music that I loved — with maybe a few moments of near transcendence thrown in.

Or listen on Spotify

Janet Jackson — “Miss You Much” (1989)

Fantastic in every way: danceable, hooky, and making good use of some of fun pop tropes, like the stutter and spelling out of words. Despite the “miss you” sentiment, the overall feeling is more like triumph at having a lover so damn missable. My husband and I theorized that “Miss You Much” might actually be in the top five of songs by any Jackson. The music video is spectacular as well. The dancing of course is the highlight, but it’s also in that sweet spot where a mainstream video could be polished and classy without descending into bland slickness.

HAIM — “Little of Your Love” (2017)

The first three songs on the new HAIM album are all excellent (though it does become a little same-y after that). They have a way of squeezing a lot of words into the main hooks of their choruses that I really like. “Little of Your Love” has some creative touches, including the weirdly effective slowed down backing vocal and the a cappella breakdown near the end. A lot has been made of Fleetwood Mac’s influence on HAIM, but the little “ha”s that punctuate the song remind of nothing so much as the Spice Girls’ “Wannabe.”

Lindsey Buckingham and Christine McVie — “Feel About You” (2017)

It’s pretty unbelievable that these two could put out a new album in 2017 and have it be so listenable. “Feel About You” is a particular treat, joyous, romantic, sparkly, pure pop. This track is a good reminder that McVie might be the most underrated of the Fleetwood Mac songwriters — not as clever as Lindsey or a cultural signifier like Stevie. Yet she’s responsible for the monster hooks on songs like “Don’t Stop” and “Little Lies,” and she clearly hasn’t lost her ability to please. There’s some filler on the album, but it’s got a solid 3-4 really good songs in addition to this one.

Richard X. Heyman — “So What” (2017)

Richard X. Heyman’s classic rock-influenced tune is full of good cheer and humor. The bright trumpet and “so what” lyric combine their powers to deliver maximum exuberance. Richard tells listeners how they can learn from his example of what not to do when it comes to love — but he doesn’t sound too broken up about his past mistakes either. I also love the off-kilter little guitar solo about two-thirds through.

Fountains of Wayne — “I-95” (2007)

Only Fountains of Wayne could make the phrase “Guns ‘N’ Roses album covers” sound as good as it does here. And the second verse nearly lulls you into believing you’re experiencing something grand, the melody and the starry night sky opening up around you — until that van cuts you off and you realize you’re actually just on the highway after all. Their ability to write melodies is astounding, really, and their harmonies are just as good.

Declan McKenna — “Humongous” (2017)

“Humongous” is the latest single by Declan McKenna, an 18-year-old who is a bit of an indie sensation in the UK right now. His debut LP, What Do You Think About the Car?, was just released and hit number 11 on the British charts. “Humungous” is super melodic with the compelling hook “I’m big, humongous, enormous, and small/And it’s not fair.” The last minute or so is an unexpected synth freakout and brings in a totally new, equally good melody. His album isn’t quite up to this standard through, but it shows promise.

Cliff Hillis — “Superfluous” (2017)

“Superfluous” has a gentle sound, with almost a ’70s soft rock vibe at the beginning. The song has nice build, though, and by the end it feels a little meatier. Hillis is quite a good lyricist in general, and he has some fun with words here on the beginning of each chorus: “superfluous,” “magnanimous,” “fathomless.” This song is from a new EP called Many Happy Returns that’s full of thoughtful, singer-songwriter pop.

St. Vincent — “New York” (2017)

Despite her indie-level popularity, I really haven’t listened to much St. Vincent. When I first heard “New York,” I thought it was Sam Phillips (of Gilmore Girls “la-las” fame). So I have no idea if this song is consistent with her other work. But it’s really striking, with the chorus cutting like a machete through the sad and lush arrangement. It’s also a gem at 2:34. It seems you rarely hear anything that short anymore.

The Bee Gees — “I Started a Joke” (2017)

Eeerie, sappy, baroque, obtuse — “I Started a Joke” is the epitome of the early Bee Gees. Robin’s vocal is weird, but beautiful, and the lyrics only make sense on a kind of mythic, nonverbal level. I love it.

Gilbert O’Sullivan — “Out of the Question” (1972)

I discovered this track thanks to an artist playlist that singer-singer John Wesley Harding posted on Spotify. (These playlists can be serious treasure if you’re willing to dig for them. This feature is a great example of Spotify’s potential for human-driven music discovery and their lack of interest in doing more with it.) O’Sullivan has wonderful delivery and is, in a word, charming. The end bit has a “song that never ends” quality, spiraling around until you’ve lost track of where it even began. The lyric “She’s breaking my heart/Nearly every day/Not only in pieces/But every way” is actually kind of dark. I’m imagining some evil genius of heartbreaking coming up with ever elaborate plans to destroy poor Gilbert.

China Crisis — “Arizona Sky” (1986)

“Arizona Sky” seems to be at least in part a song about travel — a British band singing about Arizona, New York, Venice. I like the line “It took my breath away/That doesn’t happen every day.” It has a sincerity that’s possibly at odds with the chorus — “Decorate, paint it for the union/No reason to give up on the illusion. I can’t actually come up with a cogent interpretation of these lyrics, but musically the song’s tone is also a balance between cheery and melancholy. The horn arrangement is a nice mix of trumpet and saxophone.

Ricky Ross — “Soundtrack to the Summer” (2005)

Another discovery courtesy of people curating their favorite music on the internet — this one from a terrific Mixcloud show called Daily Robbo Radio. Ross is the singer from the Scottish band Deacon Blue. This is a nice twist on the idea of the summer song. No convertibles or bikinis here — only a wistful lyric and the saddest Brian Wilson harmonies.

Melanie C — “Independence Day” (2002)

I wrote about Mel C, my favorite Spice Girl, earlier this month. She’s had a number of good moments over the years, but this deep cut from the Bend It Like Beckham soundtrack is probably the best. It’s still girl power, but cast in a more shimmering, power pop light.

Belle and Sebastian at the North Carolina Museum of Art

Sounds Delightful Melodic Mix #3 (August 2017)