Proving that the comeback of 2003's Dear Catastrophe Waitress was no fluke, Belle & Sebastian's sixth full-length album, The Life Pursuit, is a sleek, stylish affair that finds the group quietly pursuing new ground without forsaking its trademark witty, literary, tuneful pop. In retrospect, Dear Catastrophe Waitress wasn't so much a comeback as a restart, finding Stuart Murdoch reasserting himself as the group's undisputed leader in the wake of the departure of Stuart David and Isobel Campbell, but equally as important was the presence of superstar producer Trevor Horn, who didn't gloss up B&S as much as gave them focus and direction, along with a greater musical palette. The Life Pursuit is the logical next step forward, retaining Murdoch's signature wry vignettes but dressing them in new sonic colors. Although their collaboration with Horn started Belle & Sebastian on this path, he has been replaced with producer Tony Hoffer, best known for his work on Beck's Guero, Air's 10,000 Hz Legend, and Supergrass' Life on Other Planets. On each of those records, Hoffer was able to retain the artist's core identity while expanding their musical horizons, and that's the case with The Life Pursuit. Here, Belle & Sebastian dabble in glam rock, lazy lounge jazz, and ersatz blues, enhancing their swinging '60s pop fixation with horn charts, the occasional flute, and Motown rhythms, while even rocking harder than ever before (but that's on a relative scale, of course). This results in a fresh, lively listen, but a rich one too, since there's more to hear in the music as well as the words upon repeated listens. It's not a radical departure for Belle & Sebastian -- there are several intimate, folky numbers that would comfortably fit on their previous records. But having these tunes surrounded by songs that successfully stretch the group's sound gives The Life Pursuit an unexpected, wholly welcome vitality that not only produces a satisfying album, but suggests that a decade removed from their masterwork, If You're Feeling Sinister, Belle & Sebastian have managed to find a way to grow without changing their identity. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
After the near-disaster of forced democracy on Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant and the stultifying holding pattern of the Storytelling soundtrack, where Todd Solondz brought out their worst tendencies, it seemed that Belle & Sebastian were disappearing into their own preciousness, but then something unexpected happened: they returned to form with 2003's Dear Catastrophe Waitress. This was unexpected not just because their last efforts suggested that B&S no longer could produce a consistently engaging work, but because their savior came in the guise of Trevor Horn, the man who successfully helped Yes turn new wave, the man best known for his synth-heavy productions of ABC and Frankie Goes to Hollywood, the man who was last heard producing everybody's favorite Russian teen lesbian duo, Tatu. That diverse resumé suggests that Horn knows how to play to a band's strengths, and he certainly helps Belle & Sebastian regain their focus and vision, turning Dear Catastrophe Waitress into one of the group's best albums. One of the reasons that album works so well is that the notion that the band has no leader has been discarded, with Stuart Murdoch thankfully serving as the lead singer and songwriter throughout the record. Murdoch's songs are firmly within the patented Belle & Sebastian style, and while it may be true that he's not stretching himself much as a writer, that doesn't matter because he sounds assured and confident, turning out a set of songs that are finely crafted and tuneful. It's among his catchiest work, if not quite his cleverest, since the words occasionally offer an overdose of whimsy that leads to queasiness. And that's where Horn comes in -- by keeping the focus on the tunes and subtly varying the production, he's made Dear Catastrophe Waitress the richest musical offering yet from Belle & Sebastian. If it doesn't quite have the timeless feel of If You're Feeling Sinister, so be it, since this is their first record since that defining album to offer a similarly rich listen, and that's quite a comeback for a band that only an album ago seemed to peak too early. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
Much like the film Storytelling itself, which was drastically edited and censored before finally reaching theaters at a running time just short of 90 minutes, Belle & Sebastian's music for the movie barely appeared in the final cut. All of their work appears on Storytelling, for better or worse -- it's an occasionally jumbled, yet undeniably pleasant, collection that unsurprisingly feels like a hybrid of a proper Belle & Sebastian album and a more traditional film score. The strings, horns, and harmonicas that drive instrumental tracks like "Freak," "Night Walk," "Consuelo," and "Fuck This Shit" have a definite retro vibe that also extends to songs like "Wandering Alone" and "Black and White Unite," which sounds a bit like the band covering Simon & Garfunkel's soundtrack for The Graduate. Though some of the other songs, such as "I Don't Want to Play Football," are disappointingly short, more substantial songs like "Big John Shaft," the surprisingly upbeat "Scooby Driver," and the bouncy title track make the album worthwhile for die-hard Belle & Sebastian fans. The only real misstep is the inclusion of so much dialogue from the film -- it didn't work that well in the movie, and in this context it's especially distracting. In all, Storytelling is a frustrating release from Belle & Sebastian; it's not exactly a complete album, it's not as satisfying as their best EPs, and yet it displays enough of the group's charm that it's difficult to dismiss entirely. ~ Heather Phares, All Music Guide
When Belle & Sebastian canceled several dates on their 1998 North American tour after cellist Isobel Campbell fell ill, many fans cried foul; couldn't the rest of the group have gone on without her? Of course not -- Belle & Sebastian is a band in the most democratic sense of the word, a point reinforced by Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant, their fourth and most ambitiously eclectic album to date. Nominal frontman Stuart Murdoch recedes into the background even more than on The Boy With the Arab Strap, allowing bandmates like Campbell and Stevie Jackson to take on a greater share of the writing and vocal duties. Also like its predecessor, Fold Your Hands Child opts for a subtle, intimate palette that reveals its charms only in its own sweet time. It may be too subtle for its own good; even after repeated listens it fails to connect on any meaningful level. The record has many intriguing ideas (like the delicate "Beyond the Sunrise," which evokes the classic duets of Nancy Sinatra and Lee Hazlewood, and the vaguely rootsy "The Wrong Girl"), but few of the concepts seem fully developed. For better or worse, Fold Your Hands Child's best moments are those which hew most closely to the classic Belle & Sebastian sound -- that is, Stuart Murdoch songs. Though there's little advancement in his contributions, they capture the band's past glories. The radiant "Woman's Realm" is a dead ringer for The Boy With the Arab Strap's title cut, while "The Model" retreads so much lyrical and musical ground it could be a self-parody. Still, the album provokes an intriguing question: Belle & Sebastian may be a band, not Stuart Murdoch's solo project, but is that a good thing? ~ Jason Ankeny, All Music Guide
Belle & Sebastian quietly built a dedicated following after the release of their second album, If You're Feeling Sinister, as word of mouth spread from indie kids to record collectors to store clerks to critics. By the end of 1997, the Scottish septet had developed a following every bit as passionate as the Smiths did at their peak, which is only appropriate since leader Stuart Murdoch is as wittily literate as Morrissey. If You're Feeling Sinister proved this as did the three excellent EPs that followed, increasing expectations for The Boy With the Arab Strap. Even if the album doesn't match the peerless If You're Feeling Sinister or break new ground for Belle & Sebastian, it's not a sophomore slump. From the Motown stomp of "Dirty Dream Number Two" to the Paul Simon shuffle of the title track, there is more musical texture on Boy than Sinister, but much of this was already explored on the EPs, which means Arab Strap essentially consolidates the group's talents. Murdoch recedes from the spotlight on occasion, letting Steve Jackson deliver two music-biz spiels and giving Isobel Campbell space to shine with the lilting "Is It Wicked Not to Care?" All three songs are highlights, but Murdoch's songs still attract the most attention. His vicious wit, often overlooked in favor of his poetic narratives, surfaces on the title track, while "It Could Have Been a Brilliant Career" summarizes his effortless gift for elegant melancholia. Such small, precious gems are what Belle & Sebastian are all about, and The Boy With the Arab Strap offers another round of timeless, endlessly fascinating folk-pop treasures. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
Belle & Sebastian's second record, If You're Feeling Sinister, is, for all intents and purposes, really their first, since their debut in 1996 was not heard outside of privileged inner circles. And If You're Feeling Sinister really did have quite a bit of an impact upon its release in 1996, largely because during the first half of the '90s the whimsy and preciousness that had been an integral part of alternative music was suppressed by grunge. Whimsy and preciousness are an integral part of If You're Feeling Sinister, along with clever wit and gentle, intricate arrangements -- a wonderful blend of the Smiths and Simon & Garfunkel, to be reductive. Even if it's firmly within the college, bed-sit tradition, and is unabashedly retrogressive, that gives Sinister a special, timeless character that's enhanced by Stuart Murdoch's wonderful, lively songwriting. Blessed with an impish sense of humor, a sly turn of phrase, and an alluringly fey voice, he gives this record a real sense of backbone, in that its humor is far more biting than the music appears and the music is far more substantial that it initially seems. Sinister plays like a great forgotten album, couched in '80s indie, '90s attitude, and '60s folk-pop. It's beautifully out of time, and even if other Belle & Sebastian albums sound like it, this is where they achieved a sense of grace. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide
Belle & Sebastian's first album, Tigermilk, was initially pressed in a quantity of 1,000 on their own label, Electric Honey Recordings. The record was intended to be the end result of Stuart Murdoch's music business school course, but it became an unexpected word-of-mouth sensation in England, and the LP quickly disappeared from shops. As a result, once the group's second album, If You're Feeling Sinister, became a hit, there were no copies of Tigermilk available for newly converted fans and it remained unheard by the majority of the group's audience. Those who have heard it say it is quite similar stylistically to If You're Feeling Sinister and the songs match that record's high standard. Tigermilk was re-released in 1999 to the delight of the often cultish fans of Belle & Sebastian. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine, All Music Guide