Arab Strap: An Introspection (Just For a Change)

Feature by Aidan Moffat | 30 Aug 2010

As part of the celebration of their 15 years of existence, influential Glasgow label Chemikal Underground are re-releasing Arab Strap's first two albums. The iconoclastic observations of songwriter Aidan Moffat and suitably spartan musical accompaniment by multi-instrumentalist Malcolm Middleton took wry navel-gazing in contemporary Scottish society to new artistic heights. Here, Moffat reflects on the beginnings of an intriguing relationship

I must admit that I did think it was a little too early to get nostalgic about Arab Strap, and I was the most resistant to the idea. I always thought that I would be the one to lead the way in these things but it turns out that Stewart [Henderson, co-Chemikal boss] and Malcolm were very keen to do it, whilst I wasn't sure I was ready for it. I hadn't listened to these records since they came out, there's no real reason to, but I've had to do so several fucking times recently to make sure they were alright; especially the vinyl for the box set, so I think I listened to Philophobia more than I ever have before. There wasn't that much tweaking to be done with that album, it was pretty much perfect as it was. The Week Never Starts Round Here has a wee adjustment here and there, but there wasn't much reason for remastering; I don't see the point in tampering with these things.

We're pretty intense guys, Malcolm and I; the music is a fairly accurate representation of our personalities. We'd known each other since we were teenagers but we didn't really hang about at the time. One summer fate threw us in the same place and we ended up sharing a lot of good times and one particular girlfriend as well. We had a group of friends – very few of whom we talk to anymore – and it seemed like a very decadent time. I had more fun and a more rock 'n' roll lifestyle in the couple of years when we were beginning with Arab Strap than I ever did once we'd started properly. It was all very exciting.

We only tended to decide we wanted to make music in the darker moments; we weren't people who wanted to sing about being jolly. Even with First Big Weekend – I don't think it's a particularly joyous song – there's a certain irony we always thought existed. I think people tend to think it's a celebration of going out when I was actually getting really fucking tired of it. It certainly does stand out on the album as the chirpy one. It is a funny tune, there certainly is a lot of humour on all our records but you have to listen carefully and search for it sometimes, but with First Big Weekend it's a bit more immediate.

I used to make songs on tapes. At the time I didn't really play any instruments so a lot of the time it was just drums and singing. It was funny but it was never a serious pursuit of mine; making music was something that I never really saw myself doing. I gave some of those tapes to Malcolm during the magical summer I was talking about. We used to trade tapes with each other and The Week Never Starts Round Here just grew from that. I think the stuff that I write now is certainly a lot more sophisticated than it was back then – not necessarily any better, just more sophisticated!

There are certain songs on Philophobia, and also Blood from the first album, that I'd like to do again, certainly from a vocal perspective. We used to play them constantly right until the end of our career in 2006 and they just got better with time. Our performance and the way we played them improved, so there are certain things I would like to change but I'm not going to because it's all about capturing the moment. Malcolm wouldn't let me anyway.

Between the first and second albums I think there's a natural progression. I seemed to have loads of songs ready for that album. The same sorts of things inspired me; usually hangovers, and Arab Strap music is very much a 'morning after' style of music. It's all about what you should have done, what you should have said. There were limitations with the first one. We recorded it pretty quickly and pretty cheaply. We kind of liked that and it can bring out a creative streak if you have limitations. With Philophobia we had a lot more money to play with in the studio; there was more instrumentation but we were careful not to go nuts either. There were quite a few instruments we put on and then took off. For instance, the last song – and we almost put this on the reissue or the box set but looking back on it, it's actually fucking hideous – The First Time You're Unfaithful was originally ten minutes long because we wanted to have a big, spectacular end to the album. And when the song ends . . . it explodes into this big churning rock monster with loads of instruments. We genuinely felt it was a good idea at the time to have this big finish but then when we got there we realised the best ending was quiet and understated, so I'm very glad we didn't use that. That's a good example of how we suddenly had money to spend but needed to be careful not to be too stupid.

It's quite nice to hear it with older and fresher ears – if you can be old and fresh at the same time.

A lot of people say it's a good break-up album, and has helped them through the bad times. I'm not quite sure. I'm very flattered and it's a lovely compliment but it makes me slightly uncomfortable. Perhaps when people listen to it they say 'At least I'm not as miserable as that cunt'! I'm just not sure that music is a cure for people's problems, though. If you're really sad and upset perhaps you should do something else other than sit in a house and listen to a record. Thing is, I used to do it all the time. Me and a friend used to drink a few in his bedroom and listen to sad tunes when we were single and broken-hearted. Sam & Dave's Just Me was a favourite, it's the perfect lonely drink song.

One of the reasons I started writing songs in the first place? . . . men, I find, don't write very honestly. I was always more inspired by women writers. I loved Babes in Toyland who were really frank, screaming and brutal. And PJ Harvey's first two records were really honest and forthcoming with great attention to detail, but I always found that a lot of male writing tended to be a bit too florid without being particularly accurate. It certainly didn't seem to reflect my experiences of being a man, certainly not a young man in Scotland in the 90s. I couldn't find anything that sounded like that, so that was the reason I started writing the way that I write. I suppose it was about the notion of being true to yourself and writing about what you know.

We had a couple of new offers to play the reissues live, but I don't know if Malcolm or I are ready to do that yet, and I don't know if we ever will be. I'm torn about that sort of thing. Reforming isn't necessarily a bad idea, and Malcolm and I haven't fallen out, in fact we're probably closer now than we were ten years ago. We joke about it quite often in the pub, but I'm not quite sure we're the sort of people who would reform to play old songs. We would maybe do something new together; but then again, maybe we're better just leaving it dead. Arab Strap is a very specific part of our lives and it's over now; I don't think we're the same people as we were then.

The Week Never Starts Round Here and Philophobia Deluxed Editions are available now via Chemikal Underground

Aidan Moffat appears with The Best-Ofs and Bill Wells at Paisley Arts Centre on 17 Sep

http://www.chemikal.co.uk