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Camera Obscura’s catalog is a concordance to the thoughts and feelings of that dark, grim-visaged, exquisitely vintage dressed girl sitting demurely in a corner of a dark dive–the femme too pigeonhearted to have anything fatal about her–with nothing but a drink and a dog-eared paperback as her paramours. She’ll eventually make her way to the jukebox, and will spend her quarters on anything produced by Phil Spector in the early 60s, the few Northern Soul tracks from a mix someone left on the box long ago, and probably a Billy Holiday song just in case you didn’t get what she’s feeling at that moment from the looks of her. You’ve seen her before, and she doesn’t mind that her method is melancholy–it’s who she is, and she ain’t changing soon. But she ambles back to her corner with a bit of sway in her steps, her hips like the slow bowing of a violin, a slight but noticeable bobbing of her head to a sweet sounding Ronnie Spector vocal, her heart too full to be lulled into stagnant submission by the slings and arrows of a mischievous trickster cupid. In this instance, the paperback is a book of poems called My Maudlin Career.
Previously pub’d in Detour.
One Comment
Love the new album, possibly their best release yet. James is an absolute masterpiece, and one of my favs on the album.
Head on over to the CO forum and post about it:
http://www.somebandsilike.com/camera-obscura-unofficial-message-forum/