Review: National treasure's shoe-in Scottish album of the year contender

Rock Action

Released: May 11

For some he is a dreary miserablist non-singer who needs to cheer up, for others he is an alternative national treasure with a priceless dry wit and a burdened poet's view of the world.

Put Aidan Moffat's name to something and the expectation is of a curse-laden, dark and moody spoken word drawl of a trip which will alienate some and captivate others.

Apart from a live album and a quietly released compilation of lost songs and demos the last outing for the caustic commentator who was one half of Arab Strap was three years ago and the Most Important Place in the World collaboration with Bill Wells. It never quite had the impact of their predecessor Everything's Getting Older which six years ago won the first Scottish Album of the Year (SAY) Award.

Here Lies The Body is another mid-paced sometimes funereal-sounding affair which sees Moffat and singer and guitarist RM Hubbert concoct a captivating soundtrack to an unshot movie of a twisted relationship.

What turns this outing to something special is Siobhan Wilson who sings and plays cello through much of these ten songs, and Hubbert's exquisite guitar, both which add sparkle and an uplifting, harmonic and soft counterpoint to Moffat's part-sung, part-spoken guttural laments.

A case in point is at the start of the musical narrative and the magical, miserable and masterful Cockcrow, an emotional wringer of a song about an ageing relationship that is harrowing and yet affecting and might be the most insightful muse any of its protagonists have been involved with.

With Moffat playing The Pogues' Shane MacGowan and Wilson playing Kirsty MacColl, it's a Fairytale of New York for 2018 if you like - and if nothing else on here registered would have made the whole project worthwhile.

Like the Christmas favourite, it's a tough-talking "you scumbag, you maggot" two-person dialogue. "So keep you're fingers to yourself. Keep you're cloak and dagger loose. Now you can go back to your boys. And you can go back to you're booze."

Like the album, it is one of those songs that needs repeated listens to get the story. There might be redemption, there might not and even when you make up your mind, you must might have missed the point.

There is more to this album than a theme and one song. There's beautiful piano lines, lush strings even a smidgeon of synth pop, samba and flamenco are thrown into the mix.

The whole thing flows like a musical novel taking a chance encounter of two old flames as they enjoy hen and stag parties in Blackpool and exploring how their relationship evolves through family, fortune telling, deceit and death.

It is influenced, Moffat says, by “an article I read about mothers who abandon their families, and how that still remains a pretty taboo subject in our times. When marriages break down, it’s almost always the man who leaves.”

There's barely a swear word here, if any, which must be a first for Moffat, but that does not lessen the impact of the stark life observations on offer.

For those who fear that the concept would swamp the art of tunesmithery then think again. Breast-beating songs like Cockcrow, Party On and Everything Goes don't just articulate the narrative, they are playlistable songs in their own right.

“The guitar and voice are the heart of the record, yes, but I don’t really think about genre, I just try to use the sounds that I think best illustrate the idea and feeling of the song," says Moffat.

"We can literally access almost all music ever recorded for free now, and you can make an album on your phone, so there’s an unlimited palette these days. I think modern ears are more accepting of different genres than ever before.”

Here Lies The Body has the ability to convert those who have not been able to see past Moffat's dourness and is a shoe-in SAY Award contender.