Belly: Star (1993)

#17

Dead Babies, Ravenous Trees and Transparent Dogs: Please Welcome Tanya Donnelly

It was during a conversation about St. Peter’s new girlfriend that I blurted it out. After spending weeks attempting to suppress my secret, Azrael overheard me humming one of the songs, possibly ‘Angel.’ “Well, her name is Tanya Donnelly, and she plays with this group Belly,” I coughed, masking my embarrassment while Raphael asked me to pass the dip.

I had good reason for such blushes, of course. For this million-selling album is the stuff of truly angelic beauty, and is perhaps one of the most consistently enjoyable pop records of the early nineties, foreshadowing the work of myriad female artists with a penchant for pitch-black lyrics carved around ethereal melodies and indelible hooks.

Star is in parts influenced by Donnelly’s work with the Throwing Muses, and even her brief fling with the Breeders at the turn of the decade, but is her most consistently enjoyable work, nearly a masterpiece from beginning to end. The line-up for the band changed for their commercial follow up, the rather flat King LP, but here she is supported ably by Fred Abong on bass, Chris Gorman on drums and brother Thomas on second guitar and it is all divine. Here’s why.

1. Someone To Die For (2:03)

This ethereal masterpiece begins in characteristically peculiar style. Some syncopated guitars pluck their way throughout the charming opener which introduces us to the dreamy vocals of Donnelly, who has her head in the clouds from the off: “Poor thing, poor thing, do you have a sister? /Would you lay your body down on the tracks for her?” she sings, her entire voice one fabulous, disarming palliative.

The loud, chiming guitar is played along with a pedal guitar or some other bizarre type of instrument, and is plucked more ferociously in sync, stopping only for the choruses. She establishes the style of her lyrics here, namely rather sugary musings on life with a dark, realistic undertone. The basic melody deployed here is catchy, and it ends with a louder twang and proves from the beginning this band are compelling even with just a minimal of instrumentation.

2. Angel (2:57)

A warning pluck, again made to sound rather bell-like and dreamy, opens this track which then wails into a distorted passage with some louder feedback and controlled noise over a light bass line before the driving melody.

The verses are dominated by some light plucking from the guitars over more complicated drum work from Chris Gorman while she wails out her lyrics which utilise thorny religious imagery: “Give it to me please I said to God, it’s only fair/ Instead he sent three angels to move the river.” It might be worth noting that Donnelly is nothing but cryptic and dark throughout this album, and her vocals just seem to float through the mix as though recorded live from the Thrones.

The chorus makes use of some odd, distant warping while the guitars attempt to push proceedings into a faster territory and give it more of a driving force. This is a dark track which pushes away from just being wholly catchy, focusing on the odder elements of Donnelly as a songwriter. It shows off primarily the talents of the three males around her who can keep up with the leaps and jumps of these songs.

3. Dusted (2:46)

A grumbling bass begins a more straightforward rock track which really does sound like a Throwing Muses off-cut. (If a rather inferior one). The guitars rock here with force, retaining a moody but still accessible sound and leaping into some enjoyable stabs with the drums for some head-bopping thrills. Donnelly is perhaps at her most emotive here, her voice often too saccharine and waiflike to achieve real emotional resonance, and she sings perhaps her darkest set of lyrics on offer.

There are some understated surprises here, such as a light guitar solo just before the second verse, but this track is one of the more obvious rockers on the album. The drums support the thundering guitars which dominate throughout and lyrically this song would appear to be about discovering a moribund infant in one’s basement: “Baby’s playing dead in the cellar, gave her water just got paler/ Grass stains, back burns, she’s a screamer, she’s just dusted, leave her.”

For some reason only some of Donnelly’s lyrics are printed here, perhaps because she often makes use of unstructured lines which don’t appear too coherent when printed.

4. Every Word (3:33)

Perhaps my all-time favourite Belly song (there are only about 40) this is a very enjoyable and quirky track demonstrating this group are at their finest when exploring their oddball side. Some light, fuzzy jangles on the guitar begin the song which slowly crawls into a medium-tempo, wriggling number with a loud, distorted guitars and a more scorned performance from Donnelly.

Lyrically, this sounds like a straightforward track about deceit, which makes the rest of the instrumentation something of a curiosity. It slowly unravels into a lush middle section with some gorgeous little solos on the guitar and her vocals are swathed in echo before the brilliant finale. Stopping almost entirely, the song then plods along at a reduced pace while the drums thump their way through a screechy guitar solo which sounds more like a theremin but is in fact just two out-of-tune guitars.

“I heard every word,” Donnelly drawls, just to make certain whomever this song is intended for understands this clearly. Terrific.

5. Gepetto (3:22)

A fuzzy intro playing softly over some cherubic guitars marks this out immediately as one of the lighter numbers on the album and introduces us to the more fantastical side of Mrs Donnelly, which some may appreciate less than her dark side. I don’t however, although this perhaps is obvious single material (you cynical get).

The first verse abounds with galloping guitars and swirling solos but the song cannot wait to move towards its enjoyable chorus where harmonies, chugging guitars and drums dominate the bulk of the music. Some ascending and noisier guitar solos cut through the mirth as the tune leaps through its verses and chorus so quickly most of this might just pass the listener by.

6. Witch (1:35)

One of the two tracks under two minutes, this keeps the record flowing along at an enjoyable pace and continues the shimmering beauty of the previous material. Some hypnotic guitars pluck throughout the minute and a half while the continuously kooky lyrics keep the proceedings moving along pleasingly. Instead of being filler, this enhances the album somewhat and actually adds to the exceptional structure of the LP which keep it consistently compelling from beginning to end.

7. Slow Dog (4:01)

Another runaway highlight, this begins with some fast ascending/ descending duel guitars over a louder bass line. The drums bounce the melody delightfully while Donnelly introduces the fictitious dog of the song which keeps getting shot. Silly mutt. The chorus is where this song takes off, however; the layered acoustic guitars rumbling with more thrust while the electric guitars and drums lift the track into exhilarating and exciting passages dominated by Donnelly’s near orgasmic vocals.

“Maria carry a rifle, Marry carry a dog on her back, that dog is hit again, that slow dog is hit again/ With his see-through skin, the kind of skin you can see through, he’s shot again,” she sings, bathing us in sugary pop exultation. The rumbling acoustic guitars and fast pace of this song make it one of the best moments on the album, and lift the album effortlessly into its charming pop peaks.

8. Low Red Moon (5:31)

The centrepiece of the album is a medium-tempo number dominated by ethereal vocals from Donnelly and a much more sludgy guitar sound. Throughout the whole of this track we are driven and compelled by Donnelly and her voice seduces into this pretty but ominous landscape populated by various childlike characters which dominate the bulk of her imagination throughout the LP. An organ, played by Thomas Gorman, is added behind the driving guitars and shimmers through the airy landscape created by the instruments.

The track deploys some spiky acoustic guitars through the dark morass like some small patters of rain throughout the stormy palette. Her vocals are warped slightly at the mixing desk and she ups the ante by attempting some higher notes, lifting the track towards a cryptic finale: “You made me cry when I was young/ Now I’ve got strong arms.” I have no idea what she’s singing about, but this is utterly enchanting for its lengthy running time. The track ends with some delicate guitars over muttered vocals from Donnelly.

9. Feed The Tree (3:28)

Slightly lighter, but just as enjoyable, this has a softer approach to the previous pop stylings used before and a beguiling chorus makes sure the exceptional craft shows no signs of faltering at this stage in the record. Her vocals are layered here by the mighty Gil Norton, giving her more omnipotence while the music is once more luscious and Donnelly less of just a floaty, coy presence on the album. The chorus is an easier affair to sing along to, as well: “Take your hat off boy, when you’re talking to me, and be there when I feed the tree.”

10. Full Moon, Empty Heart (3:01)

A longer, more indulgent introduction makes this perhaps one of the more challenging tracks on the album. Donnelly with just a guitar is compelling enough anyway, and it is admirable she is playing with her song structures like this. The track takes its time to jangle and harmonise its way towards the bouncier melody which flourishes optimistically into gorgeous kaleidoscopes of colour and hues of shimmering beauty.

Following her highest note of the record, the melody unfolds its way into what is actually one of the most beauteous and gorgeous tracks on the entire record, and no mistake. The loud howls make Donnelly even more angelic, frankly.

11. White Belly (3:35)

This track keeps jumping on my CD player, which is a shame as it is another quirky number which somehow manages to sound completely unique and apart from every other song on the album. The darker tone is established from the outset and some creative drumming from the man at the kit shows the terrific interplay between the group and how it is not just Donnelly’s show.

The chorus is perhaps one the finest examples of Donnelly’s spaced-out pop style and how she marries her terrific melodies with idiosyncratic arrangements that are wonderfully singular. She also had help from Fred Abong here with the writing, it is worth pointing out. “Somewhere to sleep, somewhere to scrape your body off my feet/ Put on your black dress, put on your back,” she sings, still quite difficult to understand but getting away with it magnificently.

12. Untogether (4:43)

As I said earlier, Donnelly with just an acoustic guitar is compelling and for this swaying number we get just that. With just some rather straightforward strumming and country-tinged swirls on the pedal guitar, Donnelly sings this track with some backing vocals from Fred Abong.

Here she manages to make this word ‘untogether,’ a slang term meaning emotionally unstable, sound positively glorious: “The bird nest on my back keeps me turning and straining to see/ He threw outrageous parties, we were golden/ Now the bird keeps its distance and I keep my speed, sometimes there’s no poison like a dream.” A virtuoso display of cryptic song writing which almost matches her old compadre Kristin Hersh, and keeps the album exciting.

13. Star (1:26)

Perhaps the most unnecessary track on the album, this reminds me of the filler on Throwing Muses albums, or some of the dreary acoustic passages from Hersh’s Hips & Makers LP. For the first verse she actually manages to sound like Hersh as well, and the music here is rather bland and goes nowhere, slowing the record down somewhat. I do think if they had just erased this track, this record would have been an absolute classic from beginning to end. Just a tad too ambitious, perhaps and the only throwaway of the album.

14. Sad Dress (3:45)

Some distortion and feedback once more lead us deceptively into the downbeat proceedings and Donnelly’s vocals are pushed around both the left and right speakers for a woozier sound (presumably the desired effect). Perhaps the hardest rocking number on the album, some fuzzy and screechy solos are played while the track lumbers along with an alcohol-intoxicated brusqueness and the final half of the song takes us down into an exciting avenue of quirky vocals tics and messy solos, giving it a more improvisatory feel.

15. Stay (4:56)

The closer is singly the most moving track on the album, and Donnelly’s vocals actually achieve a rare emotional beauty despite the religious imagery and deliberate lyrical subterfuge. The chorus here is lavish and gorgeous, and her overdubbed harmonies lightly float over some soft and melancholic guitars which support her heavenly voice beautifully. A violin is added to the line-up, played by John Douglass, and although managing to sound like a guitar, it adds a pleasant touch to the proceedings, especially in the last minute.

Donnelly’s light pleas for whomever to stay, mixed with her religious lyrics, make this sound like something of a paean to God. It is therefore something of a spiritually moving number and imbues the music with a rare transcendence rarely seen on pop albums. All right, maybe not, but it is gorgeous. “He lives in the yard, he keeps himself hard, he keeps himself homeless and heartless and hard/ But I love him dear, and I’ve loved him hundreds of thousand of years,” she sings, never once sounding too syrupy.

The final refrain showcases her vocals at their most gorgeous while she sustains her notes in the chorus and the violin ends the album on a delicate and plaintive note, with a gigantic, warm smile still at its core, despite the best attempts to make this as dark as possible. A wonderful closer.

This debut album by Belly remains one 4AD’s finest records and definitely still the finest non-Muses album featuring the talents of Tanya Donnelly. It is a shame about the title track, as I think it spoils what could have been a faultless record. It runs along smoothly and hypnotically, with each track as seductive as the next, and it just seems to stick out and ruin it. Still, there is such a thing as a program function on CD players, or a fast forward button, so maybe I should just shut up.

This is about as perfect an ethereal, shimmering pop album as one can buy these days in what is obviously a fertile market for such fare. Forget every solo female pop artist you have enjoyed before 1993 and remember Donnelly as the true innovator hoarding all the hooks and looking very rightly pleased with herself. Donnelly recorded music as equally pretty as this, but nothing quite as transcendent that will lodge itself firmly in the memory like this does. A wonderful masterpiece, and very highly recommended.

Rating: 10/10