Dead Flowers: Anglophiles Anonymous

"Ooh, get me away from here, I'm dying
Play me a song to set me free
Nobody writes them like they used to
So it may as well be me"

These lyrics, taken from "Get Me Away From Here, I'm Dying", sum up the Belle and Sebastian ethos. From their first LP "Tigermilk" to the "This is Just a Modern Rock Song" EP, they produced a string of practically flawless music. Their second album, "If You're Feeling Sinister", is for this writer probably the greatest collection of pure songs ever put together. This semi-official biography by Paul Whitelaw provides the context for that music, including lead songwriter Stuart Murdoch's struggles with health, the direction of his band, and cellist Isobel Campbell.

Stuart Murdoch was an active child and young man, a real live star of track and field, but all this activity would take its toll: at the end of the 80s, he was diagnosed with Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and was forced to spend a good portion of the best years of his life at home in bed. When he eventually returned to music, the music had to be calm enough so as not to trigger a relapse of the disease. When music writers and fans dismiss the band for being too twee, they might not be aware this fact. That's what makes the band's lighter touch endearing rather than cloying: whatever tweeness they may be guilty of is not an affectation.

That's not to say that the author believes Belle & Sebastian are twee. Indeed, his impassioned defense of their non-tweeness is a highlight of the book. At the same time, he undermines his argument later in the book by applying the dreaded label to Isobel Campell's early solo work, music so similar to Belle & Sebastian that non-fans would have trouble telling the two apart.

So why is Whitelaw so tough on Isobel? The only possible interpretation seems to be he's following the lead of current band members. This being a semi-official biography, Bel is the subject of some rather harsh personal and musical criticisms, especially from Stuart and guitarist Stevie Jackson. Stuart and Isobel's tortured romance lasted for much of the band's life and put untold stress on the band, so it's entirely natural that people would feel bitter. But there's undoubtedly a small touch of misogyny here, which is honestly the last place I expected to find it.

One of the most valuable portions of the book is the way it puts the album "Dear Catastrophe Waitress" into context. Many Belle & Sebastian fans took the trifecta of the "Legal Man" single, the accompanying press conference, and the subsequent LP "Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant" much like they would the death of a close friend. All of a sudden, one of the most secretive, talented bands in indie music was out in the open looking mediocre at best. "Just a Modern Rock Story" informs the reader that this highly flawed coming-out party was the result of inner-band disfunction: Stuart and Isobel's relationship, a 'too-many-cooks-spoil-the -pot' approach to songwriting, and a desire to create a big sound without actually possessing the production wherewithal to do so.

"Dear Catastrophe Waitress" was the sound of Stuart Murdoch taking the reigns of the group once again. The man who had crafted virtually every song on those brilliant early albums was ready to be a band leader once again. The iconic Trevor Horn was brought in to produce, and the result was a sheen the band had never had before. Yes, it takes time for fans of the older material to get excited about this album. But songs like "Wrapped up in Books" and "If She Wants Me" have an undeniable quality to them, while being obvious descendants of songs heard way back on "Tigermilk".

So, all told, a worthy biography. It will provide you with a greater appreciation of the band's work, a sense of the often turbulent personal relationships within the group, and a greater optimism for what Belle & Sebastian produce next.