by Matt Ashare

Staples would be wearing his heart on his jacket sleeve if Everest had bothered to sew one on. Instead, he's left to weave his feelings of dislocation and loss into a web of arresting images and a loosely mellow-dramatic narrative for most of the disc's 16 tracks. "I had shoes full of holes when you took me in," he begins against the lone eerie drone of an organ and a slight, rim-shot beat on the disc's second tune, "A Night In." The song builds into a sharp symphonic climax, with a full string section bowing over simple piano chords. Even with that coda, the overall effect recalls the cool chamber bop of Dave Brubeck. And Staples prepares to leave an unnamed lover, who looms like a ghostly shadow over most of the disc's tracks, with the words "I know you're hurting and I can't be there for you."

Tindersticks debuted in '93 with a subtle, stunning double LP, Tindersticks; it appeared as a single CD and was released in the US by Bar/None. (This Way Up released it in England, where it was hailed by Melody Maker as "album of the year.") Clocking in at just over 70 minutes, the new Tindersticks - yes, same title, but the CD jacket is different - comes close to being another double-length opus. It's every bit as enigmatic as the first, though it relies less on abrasive swells of noise.

"If we wanted to confuse or obscure something on that first record, we'd turn up and make a lot of noise," explains Staples from the PolyGram offices in New York. "We approached it as if it were going to be the last record we'd ever get to make. We didn't even plan on it being a double album; we were just trying to use all of our ideas. On the new record I think we felt we could afford to be a lot more subtle. Instead of trying to crash down on the quiet parts, we tried to disturb the songs from underneath."

The anxious, agitated mood on the new disc coalesces around the interaction between Staples's unsettled voice and an occasional off-kilter phrase from a piano, trumpet, or violin. "Seaweed" sounds like a drunken walk through the dirty streets of a city at dusk, with strummed guitar and contrapuntal piano tripping lazily over each other, and barely audible whistling behind Staples's garbled verse. After a brief organ-and-vibrato-guitar instrumental that wouldn't be out of place in a David Lynch film or on an Esquivel album, Staples picks up his narrative with "Talk to Me," an ominous, tension-ridden ballad that hinges on the repeated verse "I know it's scary darling/It comes back from the dead/Climbs out of the ground/Back into our bed."

That pretty much sums up Staples's cheery view of romance. And it puts him in league with two other tortured romantics with deep voices: Nick Cave and Leonard Cohen. What distinguishes this band from others who have sauntered down similarly bleak and, some would say, narcissistic paths is the organic elegance of the music and their sophisticated command of mood. The influences are veiled and varied, based in part on the jazzy-pop stylings of '50s producers like Lee Hazlewood and Quincy Jones, but infused with contemporary touches like dissonant guitar feedback.

"The six of us write together and it ends up being a collision of different influences and styles," offers Staples. "I've been playing with David Boulter [piano and organ] for about eight years, and when we first got together we had a vague idea of what we wanted to do. We didn't want to be in a guitar band, though we did like guitars. We wanted to make music that was more thoughtful and cinematic. Everything at the time seemed to be geared toward being fast and loud. I think there's always a majority of people making obvious kinds of fast music. And there's also a minority of people interested in making and listening to more subtle music. We just wanted to take things at our own pace."

The pace on Tindersticks is lugubrious; it envelops the songs like a dense fog. At first you may find yourself harboring an uncontrollable desire to slap Staples and his dour crew out of their lethargic stupor. But give Tindersticks a chance and you may just get caught in the hypnotic pull of the band's narcotic groove. It's not a bad feeling at all. (Tindersticks headline the Middle East this Monday, November 13.)