Reindeer Section
Photo: Eva Vermandel

It started the way one would imagine many rock projects do: with the help of alcohol.

Drunk at a Lou Barlow show last year, Gary Lightbody of the Glasgow band Snow Patrol had the bright idea to get all the fellow musicians in attendance to record some music together. Even when the haze lifted, everyone was still game. So in the course of 10 days (plus three hours, during which Lightbody composed the entire album), the Reindeer Section, at the time a mere 15-member outfit, gave birth to Ya'll Get Scared Now Ya Hear!

Roughly six months later, Lightbody suggested the Section congregate again to record Son of Evil Reindeer, released Tuesday. This time around the group blossomed to 27 members: Lightbody and other Snow Patrol members Jonny Quinn and Mark McLelland, Neil Payne, Charlie Clarke, Willy Campbell, Gareth Russell, Eva's Jenny Reeve and Sarah Roberts, John Cummings (Mogwai), Eugene Kelly (the Vaselines), Lee Gorton, Alfie's Sam Morris and Ben Dumville, Arab Strap's Aidan Moffat, Malcolm Middleton and Colin MacPherson, Roddy Woomble (Idlewild), Norman Blake (Teenage Fanclub), Richard Colburn, Belle and Sebastian's Mick Cooke and Bob Kildea, Iain Archer (Cadet), Stacey Sievewright, Paul Fox and Marcus Mackay.

Between the two recordings, Lightbody wrote all but one song. "It's not really a big deal to me," he said. "But everyone else seems to think it is." And what "everyone else" also seems to think is a big deal is that both albums were written so quickly. Son of Evil Reindeer was written in the space of a single day. "I took it a bit easier [this time]," Lightbody said without a trace of sarcasm. He attributed his being so prolific to his being so hungover.

"Things happen faster with me rather than slower when I'm hungover. So that's why I keep myself in a perpetual state of drunkenness, just in case I get inspired," he said. "But I generally could write maybe 20 songs in a day and then for six weeks I'll write nothing. I don't write 20 songs every day 'cause that would just be ridiculous. And I don't think anyone does. Maybe Ryan Adams. Or Lou Barlow. Or Bob Pollard. All these guys that are a lot more talented than I am, that are a lot more creative, that deserve a lot more credit. I'm just a chancer."

A what?

"Somebody who chanced his arm and it came off."

Come again?

"Had a lot of luck involved."

Ah.

While Lightbody's modesty is endearing, working with nearly 30 musicians and instruments (including guitars, piano, violin, cello, trumpet, French horn, Fender Rhodes, Moog, "weird little keyboard things that make bloopy noises," drums, percussion) to create the Section's sound that is at once sprawling and lush and intimate and lo-fi is no mean feat. But even that didn't seem to faze the breezy 26-year-old.

"The environment was laid back. Everybody just came in, they'd have a cup of tea," he said. "Just because it took a short time to record, it's not as if we were rushing. It felt a lot more like a community that was making music together rather than one guy cracking the whip."

The songs on Son of Evil Reindeer are precious. Quiet but brilliant. The opening track, "Grand Parade," with its squeaky guitar changes, trumpets and violins is one of Lightbody's favorites. "I love those lyrics. 'I hear your voice/ It feels like rain.' That doesn't work. That's not English. I love f---ing about with the English language like that, because it really f---s people up."

"Cold Water" was written about Lightbody's grandmother Rebecca Wray, who died late last year and to whom Son of Evil Reindeer is dedicated. "I don't think I've ever written anything that I've sat back and reread and thought, I couldn't have put it better than that. I'm so very proud of that song."

Aidan Moffat wrote the lyrics to "Whodunnit" on the way to the studio and the first take is what appears on record. "It just came out," Lightbody said. "Some people might say, 'Well, he's not really singing,' but that's not really the point. You can tell his heart's in it."

While Lightbody is happy to talk about all the songs on the album, he holds back. "Overanalyzing songs frustrates people. Like the whole illusion is ruined," he said. "And also sometimes, you sound like a bit of a c--k when you're talking about your own songs. Music as an art form, it should speak for itself, shouldn't it? I don't like it to; I like to waffle on about it. But it should stand up on its own, I guess."

Even so, it's not as if someone so classically creative — music comes from his fingers, not his brain — could really explain his process.

"I don't think about music logically," he said. "I tend not to think at all. I don't know chords, I don't know the names of chords, I don't know the shapes of chords. Everyone's always like, 'What key is this in?' And I'm like, 'What?' I write everything down like one of those 'learn how to play guitar' books.

"You can be a complete musical ignoramus and be a decent songwriter," he continued. "And decent is about it. I'm not out claiming that I'm particularly good at it. But I've written a few songs. I mean, that's really it. I haven't saved the world, I haven't cured cancer. I've written a couple of bloody songs.

"Everything else in the world amuses me. Other people's music, science, airplanes, birds. Birds! What the f---'s up with them? My own music is dull as f---. Everybody else's music fascinates me. If you lock me in a room with 10,000 CDs, just slip some food under the door every day and I'll be fine."

• Reindeer Section