Monday, May 03, 2004
Ring the Belle
Does America need Belle and Sebastion? After all, this is the land of super-confidence. A land of cheerleaders and jocks. A land where anything is possible. A land where even a simple President's son can rise up and become President. So do they really need a bunch of introverted Scots and their outsider ways?
Well, yes, as it turns out, partly because if not for B&S, the target audience will have to resort to the piss-poor world of Emo, but mainly because, whisper it, Belle and Sebastian have gone pop and are more than happy and comfortable in their new role.
Since suprising everyone, including themselves, by winning the Brit award for Best Newcomer from under the noses of Steps in 1999, B&S have accepted the psuedo-mainstreamness that this gave them and have taken on the role of a chart band now. After the misstep of Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant, which was essentially them trying to be Belle and Sebastian, they returned with Dear Catastrophe Waitress a Trevor Horn produced pop album. OK, they're unlikely to be troubling Britney and Justin yet, but with songs like I'm a Cuckoo and Step Into My Office, Baby they've found a sound that's as comfortable on Top of the Pops as it is in the hearts and sould of indie boys and girls around the country.
Nowhere is this more evident than tonight at the Spreckels Theatre in San Diego where on stage they're quite clearly, cover your ears indie kids because this might hurt, having fun. This is a band that's having a ball and sliding into it's new role with much less discomfort than may have been expected. There's a light show, crowd participation (an audience member is allowed on stage to give an impromptu rendition of Sweet Caroline (Bam-bam-bum)) even dancing from Mr Murdoch. Admittedly not the high octane, super-choreographed moves you might expect from Girls Aloud, but the happy, joyful, I-might-look-like-an-arse-but-I-don't-care kind of dancing which is what music should be about and what all bands should be striving to bring out in people.
By the time, and we kid you not, an electro-beat kicks in and spotlights dance across the stage, the band have proved that they're more than ready for the big time and the unknown terrors of the top ten. They're no longer the whiny victims of the school bullies, they've grown up and they don't care what people think of them any more. This time next year it'll be costume changes and hydraulic platforms, but for now let's just revel in the simple joy of them just being themselves. After all, that's what they're doing.
Well, yes, as it turns out, partly because if not for B&S, the target audience will have to resort to the piss-poor world of Emo, but mainly because, whisper it, Belle and Sebastian have gone pop and are more than happy and comfortable in their new role.
Since suprising everyone, including themselves, by winning the Brit award for Best Newcomer from under the noses of Steps in 1999, B&S have accepted the psuedo-mainstreamness that this gave them and have taken on the role of a chart band now. After the misstep of Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant, which was essentially them trying to be Belle and Sebastian, they returned with Dear Catastrophe Waitress a Trevor Horn produced pop album. OK, they're unlikely to be troubling Britney and Justin yet, but with songs like I'm a Cuckoo and Step Into My Office, Baby they've found a sound that's as comfortable on Top of the Pops as it is in the hearts and sould of indie boys and girls around the country.
Nowhere is this more evident than tonight at the Spreckels Theatre in San Diego where on stage they're quite clearly, cover your ears indie kids because this might hurt, having fun. This is a band that's having a ball and sliding into it's new role with much less discomfort than may have been expected. There's a light show, crowd participation (an audience member is allowed on stage to give an impromptu rendition of Sweet Caroline (Bam-bam-bum)) even dancing from Mr Murdoch. Admittedly not the high octane, super-choreographed moves you might expect from Girls Aloud, but the happy, joyful, I-might-look-like-an-arse-but-I-don't-care kind of dancing which is what music should be about and what all bands should be striving to bring out in people.
By the time, and we kid you not, an electro-beat kicks in and spotlights dance across the stage, the band have proved that they're more than ready for the big time and the unknown terrors of the top ten. They're no longer the whiny victims of the school bullies, they've grown up and they don't care what people think of them any more. This time next year it'll be costume changes and hydraulic platforms, but for now let's just revel in the simple joy of them just being themselves. After all, that's what they're doing.
