If you are feeling sinister

One of the more endearing indie pop acts of the last decade, Scotland's Belle and Sebastian have also had their share of downfalls. While their first two albums, 1996's Tigermilk and If You're Feeling Sinister, were (and remain) career-defining, they stumbled a bit on the two albums following, most noticeably with 2000's Fold Your Arms Child, You Walk Like a Peasant. Many perceived the two records as an end to B&S's relevancy, as they lacked the grace, charm and melody captured so well on their earlier material. But in the last couple of years, the septet has gradually and surprisingly returned to form. 2003's Dear Catastrophe Waitress ranks among the groups best LP's, and last year's Books EP made waves in the indie community for its innovation. Now, in 2005, they've given us Push Barman to Open Old Wounds, a collection of unreleased material from 1998 to 2001. And it's terrific. What plagued much of B&S's album-work during this time period makes a slight presence, but not much of one. Most of Barman's tracks are Stuart Murdoch's, the group's unequivocal leader and most talented songwriter, which is a good thing. Fold Your Arms Child failed mainly on the grounds that Murdoch spread the songwriting wealth, and the group's other members weren't nearly as able as he. As a result, much of Murdoch's non-album work from those sessions resurfaces on Barman. Both "A Century of Fakers" and "I Love My Car" rank among their best, and many others could arguably be put on that level. Barman shows that Stuart Murdoch is Belle and Sebastian, and only when the band recognizes that does their best work come forth. The compilation's internal juxtaposition enhances this fact, as the non-Murdoch tracks are among its poorest. But you can't go forward without looking back, and Barman portrays a Belle and Sebastian both proud of its mixed history and overflowing with ideas.