Camera Obscura, Rand &Holland, Sly Hats @ TheAnnandale, Sydney (05/03/07)

Tue 6th Mar, 2007 in Gig Reviews

Lining up and listening to the dear melodies of the Sly Hats waft through the Annandale foyer, they’ve been lucky enough to support The Brunettes and New Buffalo. Tonight it’s sextet Camera Obscura’s sure fate.  It’s harmonious and lo-fi with Kamerah [not Camera!] ‘Hats’ Darling at the helm on vox and guitar alongside vivacious female tambourine/keys player I didn’t catch the name of.  There’s some real sweeties in their repertoire and nothing too left-field which opens the way for second support Rand and Holland.

R & H sees smooth, mid-paced tunes evoking lazy summer afternoons in the nocturnal, interior space of the sticky carpeted band room.  The crowd is swelling and most are enjoying the hints of bluegrass and folk.  Strong vocals, appealing synth chords, guitar twang, and the beatnik-smile of a drummer who relished her spotlight, I was looking for a hammock influenced by their relaxed performance. There’s ease roving from one song to the next yet by half-time my interest waned from lack of diversity in sound and mood.  As a poor and dirty university student I’m not cashed up to purchase Caravans but considering its accolades both here and overseas I’m wishing I was.  Transferring studio sounds to live environments can be easier said than done and, unfortunately, in the end their set proved a little uninspiring with uniform sound and stage presence slipping slowly away.  Could the gradual amplification of audience chatter be an indication?

Camera Obscura sees devotees pack the room to the roof beams.  Moving to the back for an elevated birds-eye view, check it out!  As a study it’s thy geekdom come with a sea of shapeless 60s floral dresses, cardi’s and footless tights for the meek-retro girls and sappy bowl haircuts and shy-nerd glasses for the more meek-retro boys.  Un-sunburnt from their previous day’s appearance at the Laneway Festival, the Glaswegian poppets open in melodic happy-go-lightly form sustaining this style throughout with handclapping and bit-bantering revealing how impressed they were with the thunder and lightning-bolt show in our heavy midnight skies last night.  

The late John Peel, BBC 1 radio guru, praised their sounds long before their debut release in the late 90s but personally I’m not the biggest CO follower.  Furthermore, they didn’t hit the live mark for me either with what seemed to be a motley of indistinguishable apple-pie ballads; but they are as accomplished as a bunch of musicians can be with impeccable phrasing, pleasant harmonies, Wurlitzer organ resonance and Nigel Baillie as back-up vocalist cum 2nd drummer, trumpeter, guitarist and fervent tambourine dancer. Traceyanne Campbell’s vocals artfully angled in on levels that can pick you up and lay you down flat again.  Sincere and on one occasion lost in the downheartedness of pining she tossed us into the bounce of the next song that see those at the back swaying on the lounge and people head-bopping down the front.

Most CO snapshots illustrate them as po-faced and ashen but tonight they’re a picture of playfulness and blush.  On tour for the past two months, Traceyanne feels she shouldn’t be embarrassed by now to request the audience to sing and clap along but hell! – they’ve known every song they’ve played so far and they couldn’t be more eager!  Songs off ‘Let’s Get Out Of This Country’ sees fantastic appreciation and an encore tune infiltrates some lyrics from Paul Simon’s ‘You Can Call Me Al’ (!!) and I realise they’re the perfect Monday night band – nothing to get too wound up about [so crucify me] who perform a setlist enmeshed with mild lyrics that gently feel you up with a whirl of guitar sound that duly promises to catch you if you genuinely swoon. 

Where do I find a gentleman like that!?  But yes, the band to write home to Mother about.