City Paper is not for tourists
Pity Stevie Jackson, forever Belle and Sebastian’s second gun. Ever since the Scottish indie-pop heroes’ underloved 2000 misfire Fold Your Hands Child, You Walk Like a Peasant—in which frontman Stuart Murdoch shared too much real estate with too many of the other singers in the group—Belle and Sebastian has kept things tauter and less democratic. 2003’s Dear Catastrophe Waitress was hailed by critics as the album on which Murdoch regained control of his own band; Jackson, meanwhile, continues to be allotted one showcase per record. Still, recent developments favor Glasgow’s second-favorite son. While Murdoch has soundtracked, written, and filmed the movie God Help the Girl, Jackson has distinguished himself quietly: He released a solo album, the delightfully named (I Can’t Get No) Stevie Jackson, that’s full of the candy-hued ’60s pastiches he’s always thrived on; he mounted a charm assault at last year’s Chickfactor concert at Artisphere during a sweet, chatty solo set; and for the first time in his career, he wrote the best thing on a Belle and Sebastian record, the kaleidoscopic “I’m Not Living in the Real World” on 2010’s Write About Love. The song is classic Jackson, a witty, daffy meditation on growing up. “In my young life I get so hurt,” he sings. “Will I make it in the real world?” It’s taken Jackson a while, but he probably will.
July 12 at Merriweather Post Pavilion with Yo La Tengo. $35-$45. merriweathermusic.com.