CAMERA OBSCURA: UNDERACHIEVERS PLEASE TRY HARDER (2003)
1) Suspended From Class; 2)
Keep It Clean; 3) A Sisters Social Agony; 4) Teenager; 5) Before You Cry; 6)
Your Picture; 7) Number One Son; 8) Let Me Go Home; 9) Books Written For Girls;
10) Knee Deep At The NPL; 11) Lunar Sea.
Posing for a stereotype is one thing, but the
front sleeve photo on Camera Obscura's second album is something else: with
all the hipster paraphernalia in the picture, it reminds me of the famous bit
where Bruce Willis is busy choosing a suitable weapon in Pulp Fiction. That said, the photo totally matches the music, so
why complain?
And anyway, ʽSuspended From Classʼ is easily
the best song Belle & Sebastian never wrote in their life, because they
kind of missed that window — Murdoch used to have great skill in writing songs
from the point of view of an «anti-nostalgizing» school graduate, but Tracyanne
Campbell can still write songs from the point of view of an authentic
schoolgirl. It's fairly easy to make fun of the song, but I do not know how it
would be possible to feel disgusted or irritated by it. Yes, it fits into the
stereotypical image («lonesome autistic girl develops an intellectual crush on
a potential soulmate»), but she gets into that character so well — and, for
what it's worth, the "I don't know my elbow from my arse" chorus is
quite catchy.
It never gets any better than the opening
number, since the ironic ring of the album title finds complete confirmation
in the music — the band is pulling the exact same strings as on their first
record, and if they try harder at anything
at all, it might only be letting all of their influences even more out in the open. Motown, surf-rock,
the Beach Boys, early singer-songwriters, Marianne Faithful, whatever, if it's
soft, sensitive, and old-fashioned, it all goes as long as it can be put to the
sound of a guitar ring or jangle. And who needs «songwriting» if you can simply
follow the recipe of dusting off all those loyal chord sequences and putting
Tracyanne's lovely melancholia on top of the excellent hi-fi production?
Where it really
gets annoying is when they let Kenny McKeeve sing Tracyanne's stuff. Among
other things, she comes up with an acoustic ballad that Kenny interprets by
taking a straightahead cue from Songs Of
Leonard Cohen — extremely lovable if you do not have the faintest idea of
who the hell is Leonard Cohen, but a rather inane rip-off if you do, not to
mention that Kenny has a perfectly clean, bland, forgettable vocal tone: he
might even be a better singer (technically) than Leonard ever was, but he has
nothing on that guy's lazy, earthy, lovable little rasp that he'd use to such great
advantage in his prime. Anyway, I think it is almost unethical for people to record
a song like that without at least dedicating it to the imitated artist.
Another song, ʽLet Me Go Homeʼ, also sung by
Kenny, is at least careful to namedrop its primary influences ("the room
goes boom to the sound of temptations
and more...", "supremes in
our dreams...") as the bassline plays like a variation on ʽYou Can't Hurry
Loveʼ and Tracyanne's backing vocals expressly borrow the vocal hook from ʽBaby
Loveʼ. Despite that, this song at
least feels more like a nostalgic tribute than a direct imitation, and it has a
certain unique charm of its own, trying to cross the exuberant happiness of
classic Motown with the frosty blue-eyed melancholia of the self-isolating
hipster crew.
Of the rest, I particularly like those songs
that have at least a faint whiff of a vocal hookline (instrumental hooklines
are almost like a fairytale wish for this band): ʽKeep It Cleanʼ has a nice
buildup and «suspended» resolution, and maybe ʽNumber One Sonʼ could eventually
qualify for that group as well, after about half a dozen listens. But on the
whole, analyzing or trying to be charmed by this record's melodic achievements
seems useless — its thumbs up are completely due to the atmosphere.
Tracyanne Campbell may be the ultimate hipster, yet she's got that odd
femme-fatale (or should we say, fille-fatale?)
mystique of Astrud Gilberto's caliber, and the band's music does its best to
attenuate that feature. It will probably be a boring album if you try to focus
on it. But if you don't, it's first-rate background muzak for a quiet evening
that you'd like to share with a melancholic ghost figure.
Check "Underachievers Please Try Harder" (MP3) on Amazon
Do you have a source for her being autistic? If not, it's really annoying to diagnose over the internet.
ReplyDeleteExcuse me?
DeleteI am not diagnosing people in my reviews. I am talking about imaginary characters.