Hailing from Scotland, and graduating less than two years ago from post-folk indie band Arab Strap, Malcolm Middleton steps out, head down and dragging his guitar slowly behind him with his fourth studio album Sleight Of Heart.
Not knowing literally anything of this man, all is revealed by the third track Total Belief (which actually translates lyrically to belief in his own hopelessness and “unworthiness”, as he sings). Malcolm is not your average jovial singer-songwriter. In fact, this album was touted by NME as “too miserable for suicide.” Yikes.
A lot of death-speak does permeate this album, and if you weren’t depressed already, you may be after a repetitive listens of Sleight Of Heart. That’s not to say you can’t relish in it though – Middleton’s approach to songwriting is accompanied by basic but effective instrumentation provided by Barry Burns (piano), Stevie Jones (double bass), Paul Savage (drums) and Jenny Reeve (violins). When paired his cute Scottish accent, the songs actually allow the listener to relax and give in to his music, creating an indulgent and personal headspace which Middleton would no doubt encourage.
Opening track Week Off has quite a positive tone compared to the rest of the album, making you wonder what all this sad-sack business is all about. Until you read the lyrics that is, “We don’t need to travel, don’t need to fly, like you said, it’s two more chances to die”. It’s really quite catchy though, with hints of England’s Badly Drawn Boy throughout.
On immediate impression, Blue Plastic Bags doesn’t follow through so well. When you really listen to it, though, its sentiment rings so true, especially as the winter months storm into Australia (imagine this tenfold for Scotland’s winters). “Staying in is the new going out.”
Follow Robin Down is the next highlight from Sleight Of Heart – but don’t skip the in-betweens. Female vocalist Jenny Reeve (who, according to the liner notes, sings “a wee bit” on this album), accompanies Middleton on this ambitious, almost encouraging track. Their voices speak of a hope that hides in the sadness, with gentle acoustic guitar tinkling along beside them. Stay, a Madonna cover, offers a surprisingly sincere moment on the album, and an interesting appropriation of a somewhat straight song.
Marguerita Red follows, and hints at what I hope is a smile in Middleton’s vocals, with banjo background, foot-tapping drums and catchy melody throughout. My favourite Sleight Of Heart times would be had with Love Comes In Waves, with heartbreaking imagery like, “Love is rain in Glasgow/ Love is a lie/ Love is for TV and movie stars/Love is for songs played on slow guitars.”
Middleton will be on the road here soon, and I would love to see this album on the stage: complete with his hanging head optimism, trusty guitar and stellar band by his side.
