CAMEL: HARBOUR OF TEARS (1996)
1) Irish Air; 2) Irish Air
(instrumental reprise); 3) Harbour Of Tears; 4) Cybh; 5) Send Home The Slates;
6) Under The Moon; 7) Watching The Bobbins; 8) Generations; 9) Eyes Of Ireland;
10) Running From Paradise; 11) End Of The Day; 12) Coming Of Age; 13) The Hour
Candle.
Honestly, there's not much to say about Harbour Of Tears after what has been
said about Dust And Dreams. Here is
another concept album about people going out West — this time, not from the
Dust Bowl to California, though, but from the coasts of Ireland to the American
shores: a voyage more remote in time and more extensive in space, and thus,
liable for a bit more graveness and epicness. Expectedly, we add some Celtic
overtones here, most noticeable on the opening ʽIrish Airʼ — a theme first
sung accappella by Mae McKenna, then performed by Andy on the flute, and
finally, with a mighty opening howl, reproduced by him on electric guitar. It's
a nice gradual transition from tender prettiness to wailing desperation, but it
doesn't seem to have much of an original melody, and so, from the very start,
you have everything that is right and everything that is wrong about this
record in its first three minutes.
Right: the whole thing is permeated with
quintessential Camel gloom, expressed in guitar tones, keyboard tones, chord
sequences, build-ups, guitar solos, and vocals that sing about little other
than toil, trouble, and grief caused by family separation rather than joy at
the perspective of finding better life in a faraway country. Particularly good
is that the sound is dominated by Latimer's acoustic/electric guitar and flute
rather than keyboards (although Andy's new keyboardist, Mickey Simmonds, is
not much of a step up from Scherpenzeel).
Wrong: the overall level of energy seems just
as low as on the previous few albums, and the monotonous mood leaves little
space for surprises. The Celtic flavour is a nice touch, but you will hardly
surprise anyone with a traditional Irish air in 1996, and besides, the flavour
itself is really limited to only a few tracks — in addition to ʽIrish Airʼ,
there's ʽEyes Of Irelandʼ, a stereotypical waltz that could just as well have
been Lennon's ʽWorking Class Heroʼ, and a few brief instrumentals that are
really more New Age than Celtic folk. The rest is standard fare late Camel
dirge-rock. The most «progressive» of the tracks is arguably ʽComing Of Ageʼ, a
multi-section composition with some tricky time signatures, but even that one
culminates in a «Camel wail», with a howling two-chord riff as its culmination.
The biggest problem is that the album presents
itself as a gut-wrenching emotional journey, but by that time, it had become
such a typical routine for Latimer that you'd have to forget everything you
ever knew about Camel to have your guts truly wrenched out. Burn down all
context, and you might actually want to shed some tears in the harbour. Put all
the context back, and you might feel yourself too jaded and weathered to spare
even a single drop of salt water, because everything here is so strictly
formulaic and predictable — predictable to the point that even after three
listens, I cannot single out a single song in my memory. Okay, I guess
ʽWatching The Bobbinsʼ has that suspenseful pause before the final line in
each verse, that sort of makes it a little special. What else is new? Nothing.
Granted, if you are a big fan of Latimer's guitar playing, ʽThe Hour Candleʼ and a few
other instrumentals here are a must-have. I'm not sure how many chord
sequences he uses that have not appeared on earlier Camel songs, but the blues
soloing on ʽHour Candleʼ is tasteful and wonderfully showcases his skill with
sustained notes. Still not a match for ʽLiesʼ, though: too anthemic and pompous
to really cut to the bone, if you ask me.
Personally I find Harbour of Tears much better than the previous album. The melodies are more memorable, the sound doesn't reek of 80-s.
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