Trying to figure out why a person including one's self can become so fond of a band like Belle and Sebastian is like trying to screw together a musical Rubics Cube. You've got a bunch of mixed up colors that only come together and make sense after several fruitless twists and spins. You've got Stuart Murdoch singing in such a fey and poncy voice that it sounds like he's doing it on purpose as a lark. Which seem particularly incongruent at times, for instance when applied to lyrics such as, "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."
B&B are still on Rough Trade, which (when you consider their growing fan-base of tape-swapping devotees), is a testament to either their commitment to Indie-hood or their desire to remain as lazy as possible. Belle and Sebastian are known for being very tight lipped with the press and rarely perform live. The majors are, no doubt, ready to swoop down and snatch them up, should a greedy or ambitious bone emerge from any or their bodies.

Musically, Dear Catastrophe Waitress, represents a fairly significant departure from their normal "dorm room and gloom." M.O. It's more of a cocky strut into a pub, than a shoe-staring walk to the thrift store. Diverse and more challenging than usual, the opener for example "Step into my Office," sports a perky Mersey beat Rickenbacker jangle, along with some rather randy double entendre and though it may put off a few loyalists the rest of the record finds the gang similarly clearing out a good bit more stylistic elbow room.

Probably the most puzzling thing from the standpoint of your garden variety B& B aficionado is the glaring absence of melancholia. This is without a doubt an album on a B & B scale that could be described as giddy. Even Giddy Lee since the album was produced by prog-rock veteran Trevor Horn. I think there's enough of the typical to keep old Belleheads happy and even on the more quirky toss-off's the humor of Murdoch's lyric's makes it work to everyone's satisfaction. Case in point on "Piazza", finds Murdoch ruminating upon the sexual preferences of Mike the Mets "Catcher"--all set to the classic romantic style of an Old English love ballad. Right brilliant.

It would appear that the true reason that Dear Catastrophe Waitress is a much funner go than your typical B & B, outing is because Isobel Campbell (a.k.a. Belle), is gone. She left the band last year and Stuart Murdoch is not only over it. He's reveling in it, and seemingly taking charge of things. In general the writing and lead vocals have historically been divided rather democratically between Murdoch, Stevie Jackson and Sarah Martin. Here Murdoch seems to be the go-to-guy, which makes Jackson and Martin's tunes sound less like filler. (It's sparked a healthy competition between the three principals).

Mind you this is just my theory, but it rings a bell and at least for now has strengthened the bands attack. I think the Catastrophe has been diverted and I wouldn't be surprised to see this record pop-up on it's share of best-of lists for the year.