Sean Anderson - 2/27/2010
The Beautiful South is one of my all time top bands and 'Welcome to the Beautiful South' has some stunning instances of their work at its finest. One of my other favourite bands is The Kinks and, while they differ in terms of how they sound there is one shared trait: the ability to tell a story.
The intelligence of the songwriting is reflected in the layers of each song on the album: many of the tracks sound light-hearted and melodic, but this is superficial, disguising a nasty reality and intensifying the effect. In everyday life, people and events might not be what they seem.
'Song for Whoever' begins the album and lulls the listener into a false sense of security with the longing and sincere voice. However, The Beautiful South's characteristic humour is conveyed through the pencil case metaphor. The song is very easy-listening, with subtle and slow instrumentation and the commercialised single version, which features in best-of compilations, preserves only this segment. This is a shame because the underlying theme of revenge is revealed as the song picks up in tempo and Paul Heaton's vocal range comes to the fore. 'Late at the night, by the typewriter light, she ripped his ribbon to shreds.' Something here is achieved in a song that might normally be achieved in a film: all the way through, the charming slime bag has got away with exploiting women to 'reap his Number 1s' and, in a moment of genius, his latest girlfriend has crept down in the middle of the night and destroyed the ribbon of the typewriter that he probably loved more than he did her.
'Have You Ever Been Away?' successfully captures a character that many people know in their lives. Someone who likes to relax on the sofa in the evenings with a newspaper after a dinner of roast beef or fish and chips, rants about Britain for the British and then retires to bed by eight o'clock. Paul Heaton also seems to use the songs as an attack against nationalism, willing to put his hands in the air and admit the British too have made mistakes: 'I'll crap into your Union Jack and wrap it round your head. take a look at all the blood we've shed.' Since his Housemartins days it has been typical of Heaton to weave such political and anti-Establishment messages into songs. It is a refreshing change to hear such poignant lyrics amidst the sea of endless love songs.
'From Under the Covers' is another character cross-section. Heaton is, as usual, fearless in using straightforward and gritty such as, '.We're coughing up the phlegm. and we'll vomit and we'll choke.' This is grim working-class life under a grey, polluted sky, with little escapism. In a typical Beautiful South ironic - and very witty - twist, the layabout's headboard becomes his gravestone. He has achieved nothing, but died where he liked being the most.
From the same working-class environment comes the couple whom Heaton portrays arguing in 'You Keep It All In'. It captures a lingering obedience to the institution of marriage. They stick together through thick and thin without really talking things through, but there is an underlying patriarchy that sees the woman as a victim of domestic abuse: '.All I wanted to do was knife you in the heart.' The band should be praised for such fearless forays into topics that might be considered taboo even in an age of liberty and openness.
'Woman in the Wall' also deals with dysfunctional domestic environments. If the music is listened to alone, it has an upbeat and almost infantile quality to it, yet upon hearing the extremely dark lyrics, it makes them even more perverse. 'But he only knew his problem when he knocked her over and when the rotting flesh began to stink.' The childlike music serves to invoke in the listener the husband's naiveté under the influence of drink, convincing himself that she is still alive even though he has killed her: he is living in his own bubble.
The remaining tracks all have a fair share of cynicism, humour and catchiness. These include 'Straight in At 37' and its insight into the fickle nature of the music industry: 'Why don't your videos have dancing girls, with hips that curve and lips that curl?' And 'Oh Blackpool' has one of the catchiest albums from the entire album. You will soon find yourself singing along to, 'I'm out tonight, I can't decide between Soviet hip and British pride' even when you're not listening to it.
Overall, the title of the album is an apt one: this welcome into the wonderful imaginations of the Beautiful South will have you wanting to come back for more. If you're tired of soppy love songs, come and learn more about the possibly less than desirable lives of the people who write them, courtesy of the Beautiful South's ability to tell it like it is.