Arab Strap
The Last Romance

THE REVIEW

The only thing missing was the ideal soundtrack for autumn. Something to accompany the film that, punctually, every year, plays on that cold screen that is my fogged-up windshield: the stationary mist suspended in the air, the leaves that choose to die between one wiper and the next, the streetlight glow swelling like a row of white chrysanthemums. It's always the same film every year... but it's one of those films I will never tire of watching. I would give autumn an Oscar. A silent film. But if autumn could speak, I think it would have the voice of Aidan Moffat. A whispered and deep voice, lazy and melancholic, exactly like it sounds in this "Last Romance" by Arab Strap.

An album that differs from the previous ones: a real drum this time, no more drum machines, and more biting sounds, less apathetic, more electric and less electronic, while still maintaining that suspended and painful atmosphere that has always characterized the Scottish duo. And Aidan confirms himself as an exceptional narrator, a voiceover that presents the plot of this novel, made up of ten short chapters. Ten stories of ordinary life ("you know I’ve felt like this before/I know you have felt it too"), of cynical passions ("come with me, but this is the last time/understand you’re no more than a pastime"), of resigned disenchantment ("if there’s no hope for us then there’s no hope for anyone"), of uninhibited sex ("come round and love me/sigh and rumble above me/and we’ll make the noises we make/until we both laugh and both shake"). But also - surprise - of dreams and hopes ("not everything must end/not every romance must descend/not every lover’s pact decays/not every sad mistake replays").

This is the soundtrack that was missing from the scenery on my windshield. Both decadent and murky, intimate and reflective. The ideal novel for a mid-season screenplay.