When Belle and Sebastian frontman Stuart Murdoch asked the packed house at the Arsht Center’s Knight Concert Hall on Sunday night if any of the attendees actually lived in downtown Miami, he was met with near silence. Instead, as Murdoch discovered, fans made the long drive to one of the state’s southernmost counties from all over Florida. My seatmate traveled from Atlanta for the show. As one devoted concertgoer told Murdoch, he flew in from France just for this performance.
Most would agree that it was worth every mile traversed, whether by air, highway, or foot. Not only do the seminal Scottish indie-pop pioneers seldom tour Florida—their last show here was at the Fillmore in Miami Beach 12 years ago—but this appearance was extra special, as it celebrated the group’s finest album, 1996’s If You’re Feeling Sinister, on the occasion of its landmark 30th anniversary.
Before the group performed the album in its entirety, opening act Joanna Sternberg—who appeared with Belle and Sebastian at the 2024 Kilby Block Party Festival in Salt Lake City, Utah, which I reviewed for our sister publication—delivered a set of her touching, insightful, and raw pop, divided between folky guitar and Randy Newmanesque piano. Chatty as ever between tunes, even while battling a head cold, they commented on how “beautiful” the City of Miami was—“And I don’t even like to go outside.” In another riff, they referenced Dana Carvey’s Neil Young impression from an old HBO comedy special. At another time, when they began to overshare, they caught themselves, adding, “This isn’t therapy, Joanna; shut up.”
Even with their audible stuffy nose, Sternberg sounded terrific and was in great spirits. Their music is not everyone’s cup of tea—I would liken it to that of the late, great outsider artist Daniel Johnston, who, like Sternberg, also created visual art to accompany his music—but for those who appreciate music that is almost uncomfortable in its vulnerability and realness, there is nobody better on the scene right now. In a Joanna Sternberg set, as on their records, there is not an iota of affectation or pretense. I was charmed to see a long line queue up at their merch table after their set.
Starting promptly at 8 p.m., Belle and Sebastian opened with their breakthrough twee opus. I’ve been a fan of If You’re Feeling Sinister for more than two-thirds of its 30-year shelf life, so to hear its songs performed even more intricately than on the album was a singular treat. The eight-piece act that recorded the LP has increased to a nonet, complete with trumpet, violin, and cello alongside conventional rock instrumentation. It all created a warm cocoon of sound that was especially felt on the winsome “Fox in the Snow” and the title song. “Get Me Away From Here, I’m Dying,” the album’s most enduring hit, featured not one but two recorder players!
Full production elements supplemented the performance, from intentional lighting effects to videos projected on a screen behind the band that added sometimes literal, other times suggestive imagery to accompany the music: Runners practicing during “Stars of Track and Field”; sculptures from antiquity throughout the scorching, harmonica-propelled “Me and the Major”; anatomical slides of insects for “Mayfly.” The crowd, seated and reserved through most of the album’s cuts, rose almost in unison for the extended album closer “Judy and the Dream of Horses,” which conjured the party vibe we had all been waiting for, culminating in Murdoch sporting a surreal horse head like something out of a David Lynch film.
The audience remained standing for much of Belle and Sebastian’s second set, which featured hits and deep cuts from the rest of its extensive discography, from its debut single (“Dog on Wheels”) to the plaintive “Seymour Stein,” whose harmonies between Murdoch and fellow-vocalist Stevie Jackson recalled the halcyon Americana of Gram Parsons.
While the group confined itself to the stage during the all-business first set, distinctions between performer and audience collapsed during the free-for-all vibe of its closing set. Murdoch first entered the crowd to solicit a dancer to groove onstage with him for “I’m a Cukoo,” and the volunteer, Sierra, was so engaging and on point that her interactions with Murdoch felt choreographed rather than improvised.
The tune led right into the group’s standard practice of inviting anyone from the audience to jump onstage and dance to “The Boy With the Arab Strap.” Murdoch jibed one onstage fan for checking a text, then suggested he take a selfie with him, which then led to myriad selfies, with Murdoch adding, “This is better than doomscrolling, I hope?” He even gave out his personal Gmail address (if you believe him) for fans to send him their pictures from the night.
Finally, during the encore of the acoustic favorite “Piazza, New York Catcher,” Murdoch performed nearly all of it from the aisles, slapping hands and bumping fists like a wrestler making his entrance, or like a charismatic preacher gracing his faithful flock with his presence. The show ended up being as much about community-building as honoring one of the best indie rock albums of the 1990s. For one evening, at least, Murdoch made everyone in the building feel like a part of his extended family.
For more of Boca magazine’s arts and entertainment coverage, click here.
