For many, the release of this album represented the return of a dear old friend. Not quite the case for me as it had taken me far too long to realise that Tindersticks were a band designed for me to obsess over, to listen to intently, to turn to in hours of need and to absolutely love. All of those realisations, and more, have since occurred and they are now firmly installed as one of my favourite bands. I’ve been lucky enough to spend the past month in the company of their fantastic new album, ‘Falling Down A Mountain’, arriving January 25th, which I firmly believe surpasses this effort and is one of the very best things they’ve ever done. With ‘The Hungry Saw’ labelled my tenth favourite album of the past ten years, that should hopefully give you some idea of how impressive the new record is.
But now is all about ‘The Hungry Saw’, an album featuring half as many ‘Sticks-men as the previous release by the band and displaying a little more carefree melody than they’ve been prone to in the past. It is, simply, a beautiful record. It lollops, it bounds, it intimidates, it heartens, it aches and it grins. It runs a gamut of emotions and never grows old. Stuart A. Staples, vocalist and unconventional frontman, is in fine voice but that in itself may be a reason for many to not want to go near this one. His voice is certainly different and there aren’t that many who really sound like Staples does. But, if it works for you (and give it a little time to do so) then it unleashes a world of incredible music.
I have come round to the opinion that any record collection without a copy of the second Tindersticks album (you can hear it here, but it’s got the wrong artwork showing) is never going to be much cop. Having said that, they’ve not released a weak album to date and your money would be well spent on any and all of their back catalogue. This album has echoes of some of their former glories but largely offers a more simplified sound – partly due to the departure of three band members after the previous record, ‘Waiting For The Moon’ – making the album more of a late night headphone listen in the dark of winter rather than an early evening barbecue soundtrack in what should have been summer.
‘The Flicker Of A Little Girl’ and ‘Boobar Come Back To Me’ are the poppiest tracks on the album, almost skipping along, the former inviting some middle-aged arm-swinging, finger clicking action. Both are glorious tunes, sung beautifully and neatly punctuating the two halves of the action. ‘Yesterdays Tomorrows’ and ‘All The Love’ offer the brooding, intense and emotionally exhausting counterpoints to such jollity, oozing moodily with shrugging guitar and insistent organ all playing their part.
Listening to it now, I’m noticing that my vinyl copy seems a little crackly at points, but it seems to rather suit this rather charmingly awkward music. Listen to a song like ‘Mother Dear’ and it’s almost like the song is trying to pull itself apart at times. The fact that you can’t really put a Tindersticks album on ‘in the background’ is a pretty clear indication of how engaging a record like ‘The Hungry Saw’ can be. The fact it sounded like no other record release in 2008 pushed it high up my end of year list but I think I’ve only really come to appreciate its depths in the last six months, returning to it frequently as my anticipation of the new record grew and grew. There’s a risk that the gushing could get out of hand with these last ten records, but I assure you that it’s all entirely deserved. Grab this one now and get yourself fully up to speed for an album I suspect I’ll be writing about in my ‘Best of 2010’ list, this time next year.