Arab Strap - 'Monday At The Hug & Pint' (Chemikal Underground)
4/5
By: Toby L
Whilst not the most spiritually enlightened set of breathing Scotsmen, Arab Strap possibly remain some of the most diligently inspired at least.
Umpteen albums in, and we arrive within the comforting warmth of the Hug & Pint: a fictitious pub that houses these thirteen, twisted tales of the duo's applaud-worthy, off-kilter slumber-indie. Aidan Moffat and Malcolm Middleton are our landlords once more, a degenerate pair whose revolving themes of infidelity and inebriated mishaps could prove tiresome if it weren't for the ever-fascinating compositions that they bear as company.
'Monday At...' may also be - gasp - the band's finest musical-hour to date. Broader than previous endeavours, it encapsulates the warmth of prior outings with a newly-discovered fondness for diversity. So it's fair to expect a thick layering of mournful strings, icy electronics and arrangements more far-reaching than ever before.
As ever, lyrically, and vocally, Moffat fails to disappoint; 'You know I'm always moaning,' he utters drudgingly within glorious opener 'The Shy Retirer', before adding the punch, 'But you jump-start my serotonin'. Bittersweet angst-comedy aside, and track-by-track this is a sensation - the short but sweet trickle of 'Meanwhile, At The Bar, A Drunkard Muses' sitting alongside the clambering drums and steely guitar of 'F**king Little Bastards' to wistful effect, all too perfectly.
Meanwhile, the gliding, distant stomp of 'Peep Peep' and awkward funk of 'Flirt' nestle faultlessly alongside the Beck-like solitude of 'Who Named The Days?' - an almost folk-jam set to electric-guitar, Moffat's vocal-range reaching out to a rare, gripping yell - though the LP's contender for 'prized moment' isn't subtle. Maybe it's the piano, brass or plaintive female-vox on the record's breaking-point, 'Act Of War', that make it quite so vividly fulfilling. Or, better yet, it's the 'Strap's leap out into the wilderness, an acceptance of their greatest attributes and a simultaneous sidestep to pastures new, that merge to form the confusingly enticing highlight - one so wrenchingly bold and ambitious, you're dumbfounded by their future potential, even after all these years.
But if there's one thing we've learnt so far, it's that each and every one of their fine, mini-masterpieces leaves such a cast-iron impression upon their time of passing. Come another eagerly-received new album and the reaction will be the same. Curse the day when it isn't.
Artists in this article: Arab Strap
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