I lack the following habits/attributes: a strong fondness for cardigans; pasty skin; floppy hair; an effete demeanour; vegetarianism. Nevertheless, I am partial to the work of this Scottish troupe.
The vibe here is library-ensconced (i.e. literary), witty and dry, all wrapped up in a luscious sound. In many ways, B&S’s tweeness have been overstated. They are really just a pop band with high levels of musical nous. They are not afraid to experiment with instrumentation, and can sound like a less-miserable Joy Division (see Electric Renaissance), the Go-Betweens (I Don’t Love Anyone), or like no one else.
This isn’t an album you’d put on to get the room up dancing (well maybe swaying). Rather it is more suited for lounging around alone contemplating dust motes in the sunshine or rain upon the window. Having the opportunity to listen closely to Stuart Murdoch’s delightfully subversive lyrics is a must.
File under: Delectable debut