Many cult bands deserve their obscurity, and their fan base probably delights in being on the fringe. But in Camel's case, the music industry, and in turn the listening public, can be blamed for ignoring Camel's music. That's sad because there is so much wonderful music in their studio albums and live recordings.
As I wrote in my "Father's Story" post, Camel's Breathless was a noontime album played in its entirety by a deejay in Miami. We had moved there the year before and I had acquired a cassette recorder that hooked up to my FM receiver. I taped the noontime albums on days that I worked from home. I remember the deejay scrambling to talk about Camel, a band that she had never heard of before. Her only insight was that Breathless was not Camel's first recording. Yes, those were the good old days when airplay was not always ruled by monetary criteria, allowing deejays to play music they might never have heard themselves.
As I listened to my tape over the next few days, everything about Breathless sounded fresh and different, especially the distinctive guitar playing. But I had no idea who I was listening to. Nobody I knew had ever heard of the band. When I mentioned Camel, people figured it was Peter Frampton's band. I felt alone with secret knowledge about a great band that nobody knew existed.
My affection for Camel is directly tied to my admiration for Andrew Latimer's guitar playing. He was full of great ideas and could play with such emotion. I'd place him in the same elite company with Carlos Santana, David Gilmour, Robin Trower, and Roy Buchanan - all guitarists with the ability to speak directly to the soul of listeners - especially me.
I didn't know at the time that Camel was in a state of constant turmoil, with band members arguing about artistic direction - some wanted to record pop singles while others wanted more extended instrumental pieces. Players left and new players came with almost every album. Camel fought with their manager and record execs about money. At one point Latimer moved to California where he started his own label. One of the albums from that time, Dust and Dreams, was allegorically based on John Steinbeck's novel The Grapes of Wrath (1939). Latimer's song "Go West" from Dust and Dreams expresses his desperation and hope for prosperity in the American west.
As a result of such conflicts, albums like Breathless are somewhat schizoid, containing different musical styles. I prefer the tunes with fewer vocals and longer instrumental sections featuring guitar. The novelty songs like "Down on the Farm" and "Wing and a Prayer" are charming enough not to spoil the album, but they certainly were never hit singles. My favorites are "Breathless," "Echoes," "Summer Lightning," and "Sleeper."
Steve:
As Dan points out, Breathless was a pivotal album in both of our musical lives. Their music was simultaneously daring/exciting and melodious/memorable, and the pop songs and moody instrumentals in their impressive catalog have an uncanny way of getting in your head and staying there. Andrew Latimer's gift is finding an emotionally resonant guitar melody and playing it with one of the finest guitar tones and techniques you'll ever hear. I count him among my "big three" favorite guitar players, along with David Gilmour and Alex Lifeson (I should probably also include Frank Zappa, but I'll keep him in a class by himself, where he'd likely prefer to reside anyway).
Perhaps the most astonishing achievement on Breathless is its leadoff title track. I have not heard another track like it in the Camel discography, or anywhere else in music for that matter. It's a vocal-based pop song with an odd structure, sung in an impossibly pretty manner by Richard Sinclair - the giant intervals between the notes he has to hit makes it extremely difficult to sing, but he nails it. Underneath, several layered guitars sparkle like a star-filled sky for the main instrumental theme (there might even be a mandolin in there) and guide the vocal through a complex chord sequence for verses that resolve beautifully and never feel labored or awkward. The song has a dramatic pause in the middle, with Sinclair singing the last few lines of the lyric in a new melody, before a restatement of the original theme in a different key. The instrumental coda of the piece features Mel Collins' overlapping woodwinds creating billowing clouds of peaceful sound as the repeating theme fades out. Total time: four minutes of near perfection.
No comments:
Post a Comment