Camera Obscura titled their third album Let’s Get out of
This Country, and upon its 2006 release, that’s exactly what they
did. The Scottish band attracted a bigger audience than ever, hurdling
over Glaswegian peers Belle and Sebastian to become the foremost
international purveyors of vintage-sparked, mopey-but-chipper sweater
pop. The band’s sound comes straight from classic 45s—Northern
soul, American country, orchestral ballads—but its heart
inevitably remains shrouded in mournful Scottish mists.
It’s a good thing, then, that Camera Obscura never overlooks the
uplifting power of ecstatic pop music, and by backing her forlorn songs
with sweetly gorgeous sounds, primary songwriter Tracyanne Campbell can
focus on matters of the heart. The band’s latest, My Maudlin
Career, is a simultaneous travelogue and tracking of a love affair,
and its best moments are spellbindingly haunting love songs. “French
Navy” captures the initial joy of new love in a dizzying Motown
production, complete with rapid violins and lyrics like, “You make me
go ooh/with the things that you do.”
But the rest of the record depicts the disintegration of the affair
against the familiar backdrop of the life of a touring band on the
road. The album’s most quietly devastating track, “Away with Murder,”
is a surreal country song, with its clip-clop two-step played by
echoing tom-toms and pleading fiddle. Says keyboardist Carey Lander,
“[That] was one that almost didn’t make the album because we couldn’t
quite nail it for some reason, but then it came together at the last
minute. It seems to be a lot of people’s favorite but it was close to
being a disaster.”
The song’s lyrics refer to the band’s stop in Portland for a 2007
Valentine’s Day show. Campbell sings, “People have been traveling miles
just to hear us sing/It’s a February night and I don’t want to feel
anything/To get away, maybe I could sell kisses/In Portland I tried my
pretty hand at fishing.” Perhaps fortunately, Campbell didn’t linger in
our burg to pursue the fishing life—she was meant to be a
songwriter.
Lander explains the Scottish band’s connection with Portland.
“There’s some kind of kinship with the weather, maybe. I like smaller
cities where everything isn’t so spread out. It feels like it’s small
enough that there’s a sense of community and there are so many bands
coming out there. It’s quite a good music city.”
My Maudlin Career‘s sumptuous tones are a perfect
counterbalance to Campbell’s pained lyrics, and the orchestral backdrop
offsets her stoic, almost thuggish delivery. She explores the full
spectrum of romantic sentiment, from head-rushing highs to
soul-plumbing depths. “I’m going on a date tonight,” begins “The
Sweetest Thing” optimistically, then continues, “To try to fall out of
love with you.” And on the excellent title track, “You kissed me on the
forehead/Now this kiss is giving me a concussion.”
It’s a credit to both Campbell’s songwriting and Camera Obscura’s
subtlety and grace that these breakup songs don’t get bogged down in
feelings of bitterness or resentment. Its title notwithstanding,
there’s not a single maudlin moment on My Maudlin Career.
Juxtaposing sad words with happy music is an old but extremely
effective trick, and Camera Obscura takes it one step further. Through
its use of vintage sounds and its embrace of fluid, gossamer
arrangements, Camera Obscura’s music itself becomes the redeemer, the
only reliable way to deal with heartbreak.