Camera Obscura Biggest Bluest Hi-Fi by: Justin Pearsall Mon:17-Sep-07 Label: Andmoresound/Merge Year: 2001/2004 WB rating 67 out of 100

The re-release of Biggest Bluest Hi-Fi, Camera Obscura’s debut album, is both a blessing and a curse. A blessing in the sense that the re-pressing will gain much more attention on the back of the band’s recent triumphant performances in Australia (both in solo shows and as a part of the Laneway Festival) and via the critical clamour associated with their most recent album, Let’s Get Out of This Country. The curse being that Camera Obscura’s newer fans, those expecting the lush production and Tracyanne Campbell-dominated twee-pop of their latest effort, may have unfair expectations of Hi-Fi.

While there is undoubtedly a great difference in craftsmanship and execution between the two releases, Hi-Fi is undeniably warm with the pop essence that makes Camera Obscura an endearing band, even if this early incarnation at times treads dangerously close to Belle and Sebastian. Aside from the sonic similarities and the geographical co-existence (both bands being Glasgow based), the vocal interplay between Campbell and founding member John Henderson is highly reminiscent, even if less integral, to the Belle and Sebastian pairing of Stuart Murdoch and then member Isobel Campbell. However the tag of “clones” is unjust; the twee-pop tradition is not known for genre defiance and few pop bands form without wearing their influences on their sleeves.

Opening with ‘Happy New Year’, all the characteristics of the latter day-Camera Obscura sound are present: Campbell’s melancholic-yet-heart-warming delivery and Kenny McKeeve’s reverb-stained, Shadows-esque licks fuelling the lo-fi delivery of their mid-tempo pop. The strength of composition stands up against the band’s more recent work, needing only the more refined, shimmering production style of Let’s Get Out and some lyrical re-evaluation (the lines “Do you have to wear a frown like that?/You could have hit me with a baseball bat” from ‘Happy New Year’ are a case in point) to reach the grand heights of their most recent record.  

However, this is not to say that the whole album is simply a watered down, earlier embodiment of Let’s Get Out. The Motown-inspired drum introduction to second track ‘Eighties Fan’ takes a surprisingly stripped-back bass and vocal tack which grows into a string section that is greatly removed from, and darker than, what is to be expected from a ‘jangly pop’ band. This almost new-wave edge is not the only moment of deviation, with the chaotic conclusion to the album’s instrumental closer ‘Arrangements of Shape and Space’ about as prog-rock as could ever be expected from Camera Obscura; the song wavering between light acoustic guitar and organ, suddenly veering to tremolo-picking and fill-heavy percussion, making a mockery of the word twee.

But the qualities of the group most recognisable to later fans; the coy, innocent tone of Campbell’s voice and their bouncy indie pop songwriting dominate the album, as rightly they should. ‘I Don’t Do Crowds’, ‘Swimming Pool’ and ‘Houseboat’ are all excellent pop tunes, moving effortlessly from one hook to the next.  

The album’s downfalls are few and far between but still significant. The songs never achieve the lustre present from start to finish on Let’s Get Out, nor is the album as consistent. As well as this, at times the band seem on cruise control, a criticism that can be levelled at even their latter works. However Biggest Bluest Hi-Fi is a worthy piece of the Camera Obscura story, one that is strong enough to justify its purchase as something more than a collection-completer.