Ever had that certain feeling of grudging admiration when watching your team lose? The star performers in the opposition are so on form that you can't help but admire them as they leave your so-called heroes struggling. You don't mind paying good money to witness something memorable even in those circumstances. So where am I going with this analogy? Well, whilst they may not quite have that indefinable personal connection to leap into the ranks of my true faves, on the strength of this seventh album alone Tindersticks come whole-heartedly recommended - The Hungry Saw is an exquisite piece of work from a class act that rewards every listen. Maybe I just need to track down some more of their work.Like most musicians having their heyday around ten years ago, Nottingham’s Tindersticks had completely passed me by in a period when I was fully occupied with the nitty-gritty of earning a living. For the similarly uninitiated, Tindersticks arrived around '92 and quickly garnering an adoring cult fan base and critical acclaim. After a few years a slow fizzling away of impetus followed as the pressures of their meticulous approach to recording and reproducing their rich sound in performance took its toll on personal relationships. Main man Stuart Staples went solo for a while, and there has been nothing from the group since 2003's Waiting For The Moon. There was one of those 'milestone recording played in full' type one-off shows at the Barbican in 2006 (their second album being given the spotlight), but this only served to emphasise the passing of an era. No more was expected, but half the band have now re-emerged from a year at a southern French recording base: Staples, Neil Fraser, and David Boulter being bolstered by new backing players.The Hungry Saw is an album of intelligent, almost exclusively dark, chamber pop - rich in score and cinematic in feel, although some way short of their past full-on orchestral arrangements (apparently). Staples has the liquid lounge baritone of a Bryan Ferry or perhaps Scott Walker in more restrained mode. A history of past soundtrack writing is evident from the off - with instrumental atmosphere-setter 'Intro'. Delicate piano opens and additional keyboards join without disturbing the hushed contemplative scene. This could indeed be the score of some French film chronicling doomed romance perhaps - the heroine biting her lip whilst looking through a window streaked with rain that matches her falling tears. Contemplation continues with 'Yesterday's Tomorrow' - flutes and brass providing the force at the chorus in a style typical of Tindersticks electric guitar-lite approach. The morose tone lifts apparently with the upbeat chiming acoustic guitar interplay of 'Flicker Of A Little Girl', but the fatherly lyrics are tainted with foreboding "Could those eyes see what's coming... We all get what we deserve". Dread drips from 'Come Feel The Sun', despite the title, perversely dark with piano and violin - Fritz Lang's creeping Nosferatu come to mind as once again their music puts my imagination into overdrive.Wah-wah rhythm guitar, brass flourishes, and electric organ topped by a drifting wordless lone female voice form the more rousing 'E-Type', but despair is not far away in 'Other Side Of The World' - "Screaming down the wire to find you". A mildly twee orchestral electric piano and strings interlude later and the crisp guitar of single 'Hungry Saw' finally rouses - the vocalised saw noises being a nice touch as distinct from Staples usual smooth delivery. A tale of dismemberment by the Devil no less - the despondent rut beckons alluringly again. Only once do Tindersticks lash out at this situation - with the spastic guitar attack in the middle of the otherwise restrained plod of 'Mother Dear'. A dark exploration of Freudian dreams perhaps. A classic-sounding love song, 'Boobar Come Back To Me' (a pet name for a lover?) builds and ebbs with romantic flourishes, and 'All The Love' is a slow epic with Buddhist bells sounding over acoustic guitar before that dreamy female wordless vocal again carries an alternative melody that is half soothing and half signal of resignation. 'Turns We Took' could be a musing on Staples career, and it’s a majestic end to the album with its sweeping arrangement. I hope they are happy with where they are now, because they should be very proud of this.It's not a happy time, but I've a feeling this album with its stately and eclectic sound will be there or there abouts come December for my list of annual highlights. The Tindersticks: classy just like watching Brazil, but without the sunny disposition. 90%Links Tindersticks [official site] [myspace]