Like many a youngster of my time, I was an indie kid: as in, if it makes “Top of the Pops”, I’m not gonna like it. Half Man Half Buscuit? Yes! Queen? No. Scraping Foetus Off the Wheel? Yes! Yes? No. So when first I heard Saint Etienne (on, of course, TOTP) I was casually dismissive. “Wankers!” I said. “Awful pop music wankers!” to anyone who could hear me. “"Sure, Sarah Cracknell is cute, but so was Debbie Harry, did we NOT LEARN?”

I didn’t, for sure.

A few years went by. I’d hear “Only Love Can Break Your Heart” (the cover version). “I was born on Christmas day”. I listened to the radio back then. I was head over heels in love with both Courtney Love and Juliana Hatfield. But the radio played Saint Et. more. And more. And maybe repeated exposure does work.

It finally came to me that I was just being a snob, and I was denying something I loved. Greatly. And I don’t just mean the long, cool cup-o-tea that that Sarah was. The music was “Pop” but it was under laid with masterful technique, timing, wordplay, style: there was nothing to hate about this music other than that other people liked it, and I was being a stick-up-the-ass indie kid for not embracing it. My Virna Lindt obsession was justified, and yes, I’d rather lye in a bed of rose petals and gently stroke Virna’s hair from eyes than I would Sarah’s, but hell, I wouldn’t turn Sarah Cracknell away either.

As in all things I became fanatic: I bought every album, every single
, every three part CD single promo deal. In the background of my video for “Water” you can see the poster for “Sounds of Water,
a wonderful piece of Illustrator art. I would kill any one of you to get my hands on the source file for that. SE (pronounced “See” as in the Nintendo “Wii” = “Wee” ) signed to SubPop, then to Creation. I couldn’t wake up in the morning without urinating for fear I might piss my pants.

So, a short list of what you should listen to and what you should wait ‘till Saint Cracknell sinks in:

Foxbase Alpha: first album. Great. I’ll get a link to this later. As I will all the others. Meanwhile just google it you lazy buggers. Having an angel sweet voice intone that “Only Love Can Break Your Heart” just rocks, or pops, I guess. (Do -not- rock your pops, that is illegal in many states). Fat Jerry has no “real” rating system yet, but this gets four out of five difficult bowel movements.

So Tough: building on a base build by Bob and Pete, and with a cover photo of a 12-year-old Sarah, this was the first showing of the more “eclectic” works that Bob and Pete could do. Sadly, always remembered for “You’re in a Bad Way.” But you know, it’s a fine tune, sung well. And it touches nerves you never knew you had. Another four out of five.

Tiger Bay: the (as Billy Bragg would say) difficult third album. Take a look at the track listing “Urban Clearway”, “Former Lover”, “Hug My Soul”, “Like a Motorway”, “On the Shore”, “Marble Lions”, “Pale Movie”, “Cool Kids of Death”, “Western Wind”,

1. “Tankerville” – 4:01
2. “Western Wind” – 1:37
3. “Boy Scouts of America” – 2:57

This is not a happy band. “Hug My Soul” is a polemic against all those who love Sarah for her totally lovable looks. “Like a Motorway” seems to express little, but it’s a great love-unfulfilled work. Yeah, it’s not as easy to love, but it gives much back.

Thankfully, by album four, “Good Humor,” the band were on solid ground (Heavenly, the prior label was in its death throws as Tiger Bay was made, and SE were supposed to pull them out of that). GH was under the wing of the music god we call Alan McGee, owner of Oasis, founder of the Jesus and Mary Chain, just all round the coolest guy on the planet. And SubPop, those folks what brought you Jale and Nevermindem. Solid. Good Humor worked soup to nuts, cover art to copyright limitations. Just a perfect moment in music.

Now established, “Sound of Water” took the pop hop of “Good Humor” and toned it down a notch. it was still great, happyish, fun pop. But the tones darkened down. The voice became sadder than it was in “Only love...” wasn’t mean at all, it was just more an exhausted wheeze as opposed to a great diatribe.

Finnesterre: much as I hate to say it, this was a band pushing buttons. Great tunes now and then. Sarah had moved on to a solo career that failed, Bob and Pete couldn’t compete in a world of mish mash overdub music molesters. It had great moments. The title track for example. Both Creation and SubPop were dead now, so the album was whored around for a publisher. A shame.

But the Saint abides: “Tales from Turnpike House” was released in 2005 by an indie label. I’ve not heard it enough yet to tell you how much I love it or hate it. But it’s a four at least.

So, in conclusion, m’lud, don’t let others tell you what to like. If you like it like it. It’s your damn mind. If you like “Styx” and I would rather ram a highway signpost up my ass than listen to one of their concept albums, it doesn’t effect you. If you hate Saint Etienne, who the hell cares?

It was a dark, stormy night, early January of 2002, I went to “Fast Eddies” which is just off the San Francisco wharf to see these wunderkinds of popology play live. Sarah came on stage. In person, she just issues a beauty unexplainable. I’m not the thin blonde chick with tits guy at all. But she stole my heart in stride #1 (or, maybe #2, so sue me). Every aspect of her exuded grace, beauty, talent, and the “I’m not dumb” glory. She took the mike and started into a solo of “Sylvie” that was heart-breakingly wonderful. The lights came up on Pete and Bob half way through, twitching their knobs and noodling on their keyboards. It was impossible not to dance.

It was also impossible not to dance with a Sopranos style (pool cue up the ass guy, Vito) wannabe. I looked around. I was the only one not in leather. I was the only one with an out-of-shape figure. I was the only one with my eyes on Sarah, not Bob or Pete (I was past my prime at this point, so I had few eyes on me). After Sylvie, everyone danced. Everyone had fun. My bottom went untouched. We all caught the groove. I’ve always been a little hesitant around gay fellas, but damn, they have good taste in music.

***

The show rocked. Three encores. A 3:00am shutdown. I waited outside for the band (because I’m creepy like that). Sarah came out, I waved! “I almost shagged Nat you know!”, she was dismissive. Bob and Pete on the other hand, well… let’s just say what went on there isn’t right for the Christian right…