Arab Strap
The Red Thread
Matador

If ever there was a band in need of a Greatest Hits album after only three records, it was Arab Strap.

Throughout a career that began with the smash U.K. hit "The First Big Weekend" (a tune a Radio One DJ hyperbolically called the best of the decade), Aidan Moffat and Malcolm Middleton have consistently demonstrated a knack for writing stirring, downbeat, sometimes-pop songs with spoken-word lyrics.

The duo's first album, The Week Never Starts Round Here, picked up where "The First Big Weekend" left off, excellently showcasing Moffat's knack for telling a story and Middleton's verve for musical composition, particularly on "The Clearing," which is still the band's best song. If a criticism could be found of that album, it's that its songs were maybe a bit too simple, relying on a few hooks and drum-machiney rhythms.

The trouble with follow-ups Philophobia and Elephant Shoe, however, was a newfound knack for surrounding Middleton's increasingly complex arrangements with others that basically sounded like more of the same. The albums seemed to simultaneously forge forward and run in place. And it didn't help matters that Philophobia's best song, "One Day, After School," had already been released as a B-side.

Thankfully, The Red Thread finds the band resorting to little of the previous albums' treadmilling.

Though "Amor Veneris" fails to kick off with anything on par with "It was the biggest cock you'd ever seen" (the opening line from Philophobia), it's an able lead-in, combining slowly picked, quietly mixed guitar with soft piano and an almost-singing Moffat.

"Last Orders" gets things going, with Moffat's spoken word being anchored by mechanical hi-hats, dirgey, almost bag-pipe-like keys and a guitar riff right out of a John Barry film score — or, more recently, a Portishead tune.

And fifth and best track "The Long Sea" takes a rocking cue from fellow Scots Mogwai, building slowly from a strings-and-guitar melody to a crackling, heavy duet between Moffat and regular guest vocalist Adele Bethel before settling down to a subdued ending that leads perfectly into "Love Detective," the album's single.

The single with the sexy cover and phone-sex-line ad campaign is the only upbeat number, and it's an odd one. Mixing jazzy piano and live drums with Moffat's lyrics about rummaging through a girlfriend's locked keepsake box, it plays a lot like the "Peanuts" theme. But Moffat's mumblings call to mind an unshaven, college-aged (still bald) Charlie Brown, curled up with a bottle of Bushmills, muttering his failings into a tape recorder, rather than anything about the true meaning of Christmas.

Things die down a bit after the upbeat number, when the band trots out the less spectacular "Infrared" and "Screaming in the Trees," which, while a bit weak, aren't mediocre enough to register any damage. Fortunately, "Haunt Me" waits in the wings. Its haunting (well...) five-and-a-half minute crescendo with a gorgeous string loop builds perfectly into "Turbulence," the closing track that most recalls the minimalist drunk-and-drum-machine style of The Week Never Starts Round Here.

Turning the clock back is an apt way to end things. It appears with this album Arab Strap finally is back, with a collection of tunes worthy of owning for the presence of more than two or three good songs and a bunch of run-of-the-mill musical soup.

— Eric Wittmershaus (ericw at flakmag dot com)