Camera Obscura’s “My Maudlin Career” might be one of those handful of albums that hits you at just the moment in your life when you need it most. Do you remember those records you weren’t quite sure about at first, how they slowly crept under your skin, then became an obsession you couldn’t be without for six months? You almost gave up; you almost never knew. Do you ever realize that no matter how much you think you know about what good music is, and what it is not, that you are absolutely clueless because of this handful of albums you almost disregarded, the albums that have become cornerstones when you look back and try to make sense of your own history with all things music?
I remember reading a review by some poor, well-paid bastard from a major music magazine who obviously only listened to “Kid A” twice before tearing it apart as a failed and pretentious attempt at the avant-garde. It took me a solid six weeks to decide whether or not I liked “Kid A.” From week seven to sixty-four, that album didn’t once leave my side. I was commuting to college at the time—a perfect fifty minutes each way. The people, the classes, my mindset--every memory from that year will forever be burned with those forty-nine minutes of music. I can’t tell you the name of the critic or which publication he wrote for, but I can say that it was extremely gratifying to see his retraction/apology a few months later.
Before I get ahead of myself, let me clarify: “My Maudlin Career” is not “Kid A.” It’s not R.E.M.’s “Up.” It’s not Sonic Youth’s “Murray Street.” All I mean is that I find it very possible that it could be your sleeper album. I don’t even know if I like the damn thing and I’ve been listening to it for two weeks trying to make up my mind. But I do know how rare and wonderful it is to feel an album slowly win you over then very quickly consume you. And I could be wrong, but I think I’m starting to learn how to recognize this potential.
I won’t even try to give you a song-by-song critique of “My Maudlin Career.” This would betray my faith in the sanctity of the Album as a whole. I’d be nothing more than an enabler to all those acquaintances who have unwittingly and grotesquely failed the most essential of compatibility tests by surrendering for scrutiny an iPod filled with single tracks from albums by their favorite bands (usually U2 heavy), arranged into “party,” “workout,” and “[insert individual-appropriate euphemism for sex]” playlists, leaving 8-22 perfectly good gigabytes unused.
I will say this: The first song is amazing. Singer Tracyanne Campbell has a beautiful voice. And the album is about lost/unrequited love. I think.
Other than that, I don’t know. Ask me again in four weeks.
Soapbox, descended.
