This article was originally published on beingtheremag.com, an independent music and film magazine that ran from 2004 to 2007. It is presented here as part of the Being There Magazine archive.
By Adam Anklewicz | Being There Magazine, November/December 2005
Label: St. Martin’s Griffin
Since 1996, Belle & Sebastian have released six albums, a DVD and a lot EPs. These indie-pop icons never went about things in the usual manner. Belle & Sebastian: Just A Modern Rock Story tells their tale from birth until their latest record Dear Catastrophe Waitress. Author Paul Whitelaw was able to extensively interview all band members past and present except for drummer Richard Colburn. The majority of the interview material comes from founder and group-leader Stuart Murdoch. Starting with Murdoch, Whitelaw follows the life of the then perpetual student as he falls sick and starts writing songs to fill his empty days.
The first six chapters are dedicated to all the original band members (with the exception of the non-participating drummer). Whitelaw briefly discusses their early lives and how they all came to be allied with this musical visionary. The praise doesn’t seem to end from Whitelaw as he covers the recording of their masterpieces Tigermilk and If You’re Feeling Sinister and the addition of violinist Sarah Martin.
Though often giving insight into how Belle & Sebastian became the group they are now, Whitelaw’s over-enthusiastic praise for the group (and Murdoch’s songwriting) leave the reader with a impression that he is just a “fanboy.” But this doesn’t last long. By the third album Murdoch did not wish to be the centre of the band, and bassist Stuart David, cellist Isobel Campbell, and guitarist Stevie Jackson (reluctantly) started contributing to the band’s song catalogue. Whitelaw rightly states his criticism of the band during this time period (sometimes praising the new blood, sometimes lambasting it) and the romantic relationship that developed between Campbell and Murdoch (those members whom the fans and media would see as Belle & Sebastian).
During the first ten chapters, Whitelaw finds himself jumping out of the time period that he’s ostensibly covering, confusing the reader. Making matters worse, when switching frequently between Stuart David and Stuart Murdoch, Whitelaw doesn’t always make it clear whom he is quoting.
While the book provides a lot of insight into the band and Stuart Murdoch specifically, the best parts of the book are Whitelaw’s rather pointless footnotes that seem to only be included for a laugh. My favourite of these pointless footnotes, “A lot of the antipathy people feel towards B&S is undoubtedly aimed less at the group themselves and more at the self-regarding, smugly exclusive nature of much of their fanbase, many of whom will no doubt be reading this book. It’s all your fault, you dolts.” It’s a funny footnote, but it doesn’t really offer much in the way of insight towards to overuse of the term “twee.”
Of much interest was the slow development of the band producing the “sad bastard music” that was featured in their first few albums to the pop-spectacle that is most apparent on their latest album.
Though he offers very little on the upcoming album (due to be released in January), Whitelaw tells a story that was in desperate need to be told since Belle & Sebastian are one of modern pop’s most important figures.