I Am A Patient Boy…
When Tindersticks emerged with their early 90’s debut, they showed up in the nick of time to predate the wave of Cohen-worshiping indie rock sadboys – including Band of Horses and The National – that would crest in the new millennium. Tindersticks distinguish themselves from all that noise by blending baroque pop that isn’t overly exuberant with alternative rock that manages to be sorrowful and glum without wallowing in non-committal self-pity – for too long at a time, that is.
Songwriter and lead vocalist Stuart Staples lingers on the former for most of The Waiting Room, the group’s latest record, which contains a little guitar to contrast the vaguely grungy textures of their early work. The atmosphere feels more like that of a thinly peopled New York bar and less like the rodeo of songs such as “Nectar” and “Blood” from their self-titled LP, mostly due to a notable absence of shrieking fiddles. Instrumental prelude, “Follow Me,” is a river of slow, dreamy tones that sound like they could have all easily come from a modest toy keyboard, but they’re all layered into something that faintly recalls the painstaking artistry of The Moody Blues.
During “Second Chance Man” and indeed throughout most of the record, Staples’ voice rarely rises above an apprehensive murmur. Things seem a little too quiet until the trademark horn section chimes in, just when you think Tindersticks have done away with the fanfare for good. To their credit, the band refrains from arrangements that are inexcusably gaudy throughout the entirety of The Waiting Room. But the strings and brass are always there, peeking out from behind every corner, occasionally popping in sometime around the song’s bridge to remind listeners of their eternal presence, of Staples’ restraint in the context of this point in his career. “We Are Dreamers” is thick with acoustic jangling and western flare, and topped with eerie, film noir saxophones. The buzzing, dense low end pulls it all together into a dense mass that sounds impeccably like one of Nick Cave’s fearsome sermons – refreshingly evil rather than vulnerable and guilty. “Help Yourself” offers heaping helpings of brass and baritone and swinging big band melodies, but Tindersticks return to their antiquated, classical instrumentation with single “Hey Lucinda.” The tune features Victorian music box tinkling and a lilting accordion and is a male/female duet about…wait a minute. I know that voice…Oh hey its Jehnny Beth from Savages! Damn they’re everywhere nowadays. Anyway, it’s a duet in which an offputtingly persistent guy attempts to lure a young lady out of social seclusion that haunts. Teetering, stuffed with woodwind squeals, it’s quite a bit of fun.
Besides tasty little bumps in the road like the Tom Waits-style spoken word piece “How He Entered” and the funky but subdued slap bass of “Were We Once Lovers?” The Waiting Room is a mellow, moody, and mostly uniform ride that’s worth its weight in beautiful and melancholy moments.
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