ne of the most beloved, bewitching, misunderstood, and ultimately disappointing bands in recent history, Belle and Sebastian did the near-impossible in the post-Internet era: They seemed to appear out of nowhere. That they chose not to mysteriously vanish some time later is a common lament.

Despite the romantic, mythmaking stories on the band’s record sleeves, Belle and Sebastian were formed after Stuarts Murdoch and David met in a government-training scheme. The two recorded demos that were eventually selected to be the sole annual release of former Associates’ keyboardist Alan Rankine’s Stow College Music Business Course. That album, Tigermilk, was recorded in three days by Murdoch, David, Isobel Campbell, Stevie Jackson, Richard Colburn, and Mick Cooke, and a vinyl-only pressing of 1,000 copies was released on Electric Honey Records.

The album was a wistful, nostalgia-laden blend of literate, sing-a-long indie pop that examined sexual frustration, shiftlessness, loneliness, isolation, and self-expression. Fortunately, copies fell into the right hands, netting them an invitation to perform on BBC’s “Mark and Lard” show. As was the case with many of the early indie bands of the 1980s, their sweetly shy hushed radio sessions were how they first reached a sizeable audience. For many older fans, the band either crystallized what they had always sought in a guitar-based band or caught by surprise those who felt they’d never be moved and seduced by “indie schmindie.”

The band’s legend grew with a series of shambolic live dates opening for the Tindersticks, a London appearance in late 1996, and a pair of shows in a synagogue at the 1996 CMJ Conference. As the band stumbled into notoriety, early live appearances were characterized by endless sound checking and nervous foot shuffling. They even recorded a “Sessions at West 54th” that was scrapped because it was considered unfit for airing, though it’s not known whether that was the decision of the show’s producers, the band, its management, or a combination of any of the three.

Through it all, however, the band’s fumbling amateurishness endeared and their lack of appearances and self-imposed isolation from the press only added to the hunger and mystery surrounding them. Like the Smiths before them and the Clientele since, Murdoch’s songs are often punctuated by proper and place names, which help paint an expressionist, detail-oriented, singular worldview that when it connects with a listener, often leaves an indelible, deep impression.

In late 1996, the band’s second album, If You’re Feeling Sinister was released. The closing of the band’s first American label, Enclave, made the record initially difficult to find in the States, fueling their already fierce status as being more discussed than heard. Those who did hear the record, however, were treated to a plaintive, lush gem. The staggeringly high quality of their work continued the next year with the release of three four-song EPs. That year also saw the cult of Belle and Sebastian emerge with the August 1997 creation of the Sinister list and UK club nights such as “200 Troubled Teenagers.”

The following year, 1998, was a transitional one for the band. They had, for the first time, to deal with expectations and for the first time in their existence they worked and acted like a band. A full tour was scheduled, proper studio time was booked, and songwriting credits were shared. No longer a loose collective that gathered to record Murdoch’s songs, the band’s third album also featured compositions by Campbell, Jackson, and David, as well as the first tracks that sounded as if they were recorded and composed as a unit. Worryingly, most of the record’s best work had, in most cases, been written more than a year earlier and one of the record’s most slight tracks, “Dirty Dream #2,” seemed a harbinger of what was to come. A direct lyric without the layers of wit or charm, deft turns of phrase of phrase, or expressionism of Murdoch’s best work—although a favorite of the band’s second wave of fans—the song is most characterized by its Northern Soul pastiche of its music. As the band continues to create tracks as a group, the singularity of Murdoch’s voice has been drowned out by a series of similar all-nighter choruses. The consensus approach to songwriting—particularly amidst a group of people who were thrust together by the popularity of one member’s genius, not a shared set of musical goals—has seen the band lapse into the familiar in order to find shared touchstones: 60s baroque pop, soul, and folk-rock.

A proper tour was even scheduled, which, after its conclusion, it was determined that it would be the band’s last road trip. When this decision was announced without his input, David left the band to focus on his other musical and literary pursuits. This year, Campbell followed him out the door to focus on her own music.

Being pushed into the public spotlight hasn’t seemed to suit Murdoch, who has ceded creative control of the band. (Although he has flourished as a performer.) The 1999 CD release of Tigermilk and the band’s surprise Brit award win fully lifted the curtain on the band. In the case of the former, it was the final lifting of the veil on the band’s mysteriousness and myth. The latter— ironically, the work of devoted list members’ ballot-stuffing— hastened the band’s shift from the private corners of cultdom to very public scrutiny that stared down Murdoch. That year’s 1999 Bowlie Festival, the curated event now known as All Tomorrow’s Parties, was a sort of goodbye to the former band. A communal gathering of the band’s rabid fans, in retrospect it served as a good-bye to the band they knew and loved and, in a way, to each other.

Recent releases have shown shades of brilliance (particularly the fourth album’s troika of outstanding Murdoch compositions, “I Fought in a War,” “The Model,” and “There’s Too Much Love”) but little more. The belated release of long-time live favorite, “The Loneliness of the Middle-Distance Runner” only served as a reminder of when all of the band’s work was this outstanding, and many of the group’s more noble experiments—soundtrack work, a Nancy and Lee-style duet, soul rave-ups—have been spectacular failures.

Quick Facts:

Current members: Stuart Murdoch (vocals, guitar, piano), Stevie Jackson (guitar, vocals), Richard Colburn (drums), Mick Cooke (trumpet, bass), Chris Geddes (keyboards, organ), Sarah Martin (violin, vocals), Bobby Kildea (guitar, bass).

Location: Glasgow, Scotland

Style: Indie Pop

Labels Appeared On:Jeepster, Enclave, Matador, and Rough Trade

Major Releases:

Tigermilk (1996)
If You’re Feeling Sinister (1996)
Dog on Wheels EP (1997)
Lazy Line Painter Jane EP (1997)
3...6...9 Seconds of Light EP (1997)
The Boy With the Arab Strap (1998)
This Is Just a Modern Rock Song EP (1998)
Fold Your Hands Child, You Look Like a Peasant (2000)
Legal Man EP(2000)
Jonathan David EP(2001)
I’m Waking Up to Us EP(2002)
Storytelling (2002)

Starting Point: If You’re Feeling Sinister (1996)

Essential: Lazy Line Painter Jane EP Box Set