Let's Get Out Of This Country - Camera Obscura - Let's Get Out Of This Country

This scottish band sounds like Belle and Sebastian which is a big compliment in our house.

If you like the sounds of Camera Obscura, check out their most recent record Let's Get Out of This Country

» Jonathan reminds us that we are first human.

» Ten typographic mistakes everyone makes.

» 13 ways to be nice that will cost you barely anything.

» Craig asks Am I Broken Yet?

» A heart breaking Office Memorium.

» What if Radiohead were country.

» What kind of church member are you?

» Bentley FTW.

Bands like Hellsingland Underground frustrate me. On one hand, I can totally understand why a bunch of Swedes would want to start a Southern boogie-rock band ala Lynyrd Skynyrd or the Allman Bros. I bet they have a great time doing it and I imagine that local audiences lap it up. But why record a full album? Do they really think they'll appeal to a more widespread audience? At least the single "Northern country boy" attempts to redress the usual redneck clichés according to the band's true origins, but I'm still left thinking "so what?" Is it because I feel like they could do so much more with it? Or maybe it's because the music simply isn't all that great. I know this stuff is supposed to have a laidback feel, but they've crossed over the line to tepid. Perhaps they should indulge in a bit more of that hembränt and weed they're talking about in order to loosen up. Disappointing.

As I pick up my things and ship overseas, Camera Obscura’s “Let’s Get Out of This Country” is ringing in my ears. It’s been stuck for days. The song’s bouncy aesthetic appears an astute parallel for my situation; after all, the prospect of lands unknown and times unheralded is nothing if not exciting. I wouldn’t trade it for anything. But for all of its vivacity, there is a dark edge to this innocuous ditty.

The protagonist in “Let’s Get Out of This Country” asks “What does the city have to offer me?” and fails to see why it is the “bee’s knees.” Recently I have felt the agitation experienced by those within reach of something desirable. Heck, I have even wondered aloud why I am still in this neck of the woods rather than gallivanting through Europe. I am a writer; my life is always tragic.

However, no amount of melodramatic angst could bring me to Camera Obscura’s depressing statement that “I am bored with me.” Don’t get me wrong, as I head to Amsterdam—with its infamous world of Red Light Districts and marijuana cafes—I am looking to push my boundaries. I would be surprised, if not disappointed, if I were to return an unchanged man. Drink and debauchery surely transform a soul. However, I don’t feel the sinking dissatisfaction revealed by Camera Obscura’s lyric.

Despite my excitement at leaving, I have also had a chance to reflect. Again, I am a writer: it’s what I do. And this reflection has seen me consider what it is I hope to gain from my journey. Am I trying to find myself, like the troubled individual in “Let’s Get Out of This Country”? I don’t think so. Am I instead searching for a new home? Again, no luck there—I can’t speak a word of Dutch. Six months in Amsterdam will be interesting enough, without extending my lingual inadequacy into permanency.

Beyond that minor practicality, I am not wont for a home. Floating through my mind is Youth Group’s “Booth Street,” a sweet alt-country tune from their debut album. Booth Street is in the Sydney inner suburb of Annandale. I can’t say I’ve ever been there. I may have made a fleeting trip, but my attachment to this song has nothing to do with geography or patriotism. Booth Street as an address is as meaningless to me experientially as Penny Lane.

As always, the connection is in the music. The swooning slide guitar plays to the dreamer in my head. The crooning backing vocals are the chorus in my dreams. The swaying beat is the last dance of the night. But the most important thing to find at Booth Street, as so astutely pointed out by Youth Group, is someone “waiting on two feet there for me.” Youth Group’s Booth Street may be in Annandale, but it could be any juncture or intersection or footpath anywhere in the world. I can’t say I’ve ever been there, but I hope to find it soon.

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Koa Windsong and Willie Brim, an Aboriginal teacher talk about Aboriginal knowledge, culture, survival and the need to pass on the ages old wisdom to contemporary society. The audio is from Koa's latest DVD shot in 'Bulwai Country', which is located around Davies Creek, North Queensland near Cairns.

http://www.bushtucker.ws

length: 12:20 mins 128 kbps stereo 11.3 MB

I may have posted this tune already, but this is the latest rendition, and they’ve managed to get Mr. Chi Pig (SNFU) to slow down enough that the effect is much more complete. Very Broke Back Mountain now… Chi and Plow and their love that dare not speak its name…

Hellbent Cuntry w/ Mr. Chi Pig present Country Cannibal Cafe

Last time we sampled Saltbreakers, we heard Laura get Soof-y with jazz-great Bill Frisell and the Cedar Hill Choir. Now you can hear three more of the album's tracks -- "Don't Lose Yourself," "Cast A Hook," and "Pink Light" -- which are a snapshot of Veirs's broad style spread on the record. The first has Laura in quick cadence and starry-eyed hook, "Pink Light" showing her shimmer and fuzz, and "Cast Yourself" recalling the best of Year Of Meteors. Hear Veirs here. And in case you missed it last time...

Laura Veirs - "To The Country" (MP3)

S altbreakers is available on Nonesuch.