Blowin' Indie Wind

Author: Erika Mercer

Please, just indulge me for a moment while I stick my tongue out at all those critics who've dared claim that Belle & Sebastian has sold out with their newest album, "Dear Catastrophe Waitress." Sorry to say, you've missed the point.

When the band's first album, "Tigermilk," hit record stores in 1996, hipster culture as we know it was just defining itself. Belle & Sebastian, with its shy, quirky persona and dark, clever sense of humor, gave many in this emerging culture an identity to latch on to - and stories to match their own lives. But now that Belle & Sebastian has grown out of their teenage angst stage (at least at little) and released an album that champions the brighter - and may we say poppier - side of life, hipsters everywhere are down their throats for selling out. Come on, folks. The world isn't really as gloomy as it seems.

Belle & Sebastian is already out to prove its new worldview in the very first note of the album. Instead of opening with lead singer Stuart Murdoch's high, lonesome tenor, the band launches the album with a bang - or, if not a bang, then at least a bop. Drums, horns and strings signal the start of the new era, joined eventually by Murdoch's voice - "She called me up today / Meet me down at the old cafÈ / I jumped into the shower / I was getting my marching orders" - which gets its own marching orders from the song's quick beat.

In addition to the bouncy tune, humorous innuendos also permeate the first song, "Step Into My Office Baby." Unlike the sexually frustrated lyrics of the band's previous albums, this song's lyrics take a playful stance toward sex: "She gave me some dictation / But my strength is in administration / I took down all she said / I even took down her little red dress." In other words, Belle & Sebastian is ready to have fun.

This doesn't mean that the old Belle & Sebastian has been forgotten - first of all, the band has included a number of songs on the album which flaunt their trademark sound - try the fourth song, "Piazza, New York Catcher," or the eighth song, "Wrapped Up in Books." Longtime fans won't be disappointed. Yet, even in its more experimental songs, the band is just as clever as ever, toying with unexpected tempo shifts and biting deep with sarcastic lyrics. Just because they're happier now doesn't mean they're taking themselves any more seriously. In fact, this ability to laugh at themselves is their saving grace - and what keep several of the truly pop-happy songs on "Dear Catastrophe Waitress" - for instance, "If You Find Yourself Caught In Love," the tenth song - afloat.

Besides, not all of "Dear Catastrophe Waitress" is as upbeat as it sounds on first listen. Sure, you'll find yourself bobbing your head and tapping your toes, but stop for a minute and listen to some of the lyrics: "I'm sorry if he hit you with a full can of Coke / It's no joke / Your face is bleeding / You'll soon be leaving this town to the clowns who worship / No one but themselves." Upbeat? Really?

Growing out of their teenage angst doesn't mean that the world suddenly appears rose-colored to Belle & Sebastian. It just means that they've found a balance between gloom and cheer. "Dear Catastrophe Waitress" might sound childish and slap-happy to some, but listen closer - it's a sophisticated, experienced album, which endorses life's ironies, pleasures, and pains without succumbing to any of them. In the refrain of "If She Wants Me," the third song on the album, Murdoch sings, "If I could do just one near perfect thing I'd be happy / They'd write it on my grave, or when they scattered my ashes / On second thoughts I'd rather hang about with and be there with my best friend / If she wants me." This sentiment - one of mortality and joy in life's smallest pleasures - runs throughout the album and signals a new level of maturity in their songwriting, transcending the persistently downbeat and critical stance of the indie culture they helped create.