Belle and Sebastian: Dear Catastrophe Waitress

By Sam Cholke

Belle and Sebastian has always worn its influences on its collective shoulder.

“Dear Catastrophe Waitress” plays with the melodies of the band’s record collection. The band’s taste seems to have moved away from the more morose sounds of Nico and Leonard Cohen to the sounds of ’70s AM radio during its last few albums, and culminates on “Dear Catastrophe Waitress.”

“Waitress” is crammed with the infectious songwriting style that Burt Bacharach and Elvis Costello popularized.

The album slides through its 12 songs on the clean production of Trevor Horn and riding high on swells of horns and choppy guitars as Stuart Murdoch croons along.

The major pitfall of the new songwriting style of Belle and Sebastian is the lyrics’ failure to progress with the band. The deeply poetic verse of Stuart Murdoch has been substituted for simple rhymes and immediately accessible wordplay. The allure of Belle and Sebastian was its ability to voice the pains of life in simple and beautiful language. A few lines rise above cliche on the album, but most are hopelessly mired in inane attempts to win over a girl.

The weight has fallen out of the message on “Dear Catastrophe Waitress,” but the ability to write a catchy song that commands you to sway with the rhythm is at its pinnacle. Hopefully, Belle and Sebastian can hold onto the ability to craft timeless melodies and can eliminate such lines as “I had a funny dream/ You were wearing funny shoes.”