Author: Peter Podbrežnik
Artist: Camel
Label: Camel Productions
Release: 1996
Rating: 5/5
Under the leadership of the indestructible guitarist, singer and flutist Andy Latimer, Camel remained a synonym for everything that’s best in symphonic prog rock even into their third decade. They endured as one of a handful of lone bands that shaped the golden age of progressive rock and, even in totally changed musical times, kept (or revived) their adventurous spirit and spontaneously created whatever their hearts desired. After their hugely successful comeback and the release of the excellent concept album “Dust And Dreams” (1991), Camel were enjoying a real renaissance of their sound, and when they put out a new album five years later, every music connoisseur could rightfully expect that they wouldn’t stop now and would only keep climbing. “Harbour Of Tears” is yet another example of a timeless masterpiece, the kind only they can pull off, where the meditative mood once again takes precedence over the bare technical wizardry of individual instrumentalists, who are of course nonetheless at an enviable level again.
“Harbour Of Tears” is, after “The Snow Goose” (1975), “Nude” (1981), “Stationary Traveller” (1984) and “Dust And Dreams” (1991), one more in a line of concept albums, continuing their successful tradition. Unlike the earlier concepts, this time it’s not based on a literary source but on a historical fact. The inspiration came when Andy was researching his Irish roots (the album is dedicated to the memory of his father) and the period in the late 19th century when many impoverished Irish people, driven out by the famine caused by the potato blight and by discrimination at the hands of the English, emigrated to the US to seek their fortune. That, indirectly, was also the start of their long struggle for independence. That Andy has Celtic blood in him is no surprise to anyone familiar with their earlier work, which in places contained quite a bit of Celtic pathos. Still, no album was ever as deeply personal and loaded with that quiet sadness typical of Irish folk music, whose main elements Camel this time blend beautifully with their trademark sound.
That sound has become a touch more sophisticated still, which is down mainly to the dreamy orchestral arrangements, this time even better than those on their landmark masterpiece “The Snow Goose”. But what they’ve always been best known for is, once again, the exquisite subtlety flowing from under the strings of Andy’s guitar, which, alongside good old David Gilmour (Pink Floyd), makes him one of the greatest masters of slide guitar. Their styles are indeed very similar, with the difference that Gilmour draws much more from the blues, while Latimer brings more elements of jazz into his sound. On no previous album by the band does this technique come across as strongly as here, where we’re treated to some of the most beautiful guitar passages imaginable. Worth mentioning are also two new members, Mickey Simmonds (ex-Fish) on keyboards and John Xepoleas on drums, who ably replace their predecessors. Bassist/singer David Patton (ex-The Alan Parsons Project) is back working with the band as well. The album is more than ever loaded with extraordinary pathos and incredible emotion, and it’s bursting with melancholic passages that instantly conjure dramatic images of traumatic transatlantic voyages and capture the spirit of a historical era perfectly. This magic works so beautifully thanks to a masterful combination of traditional Irish folk elements, and with them authentic Celtic melos, and their highly sophisticated version of symphonic prog, steeped in melody yet full of (seemingly hidden) complex arrangements.
“Irish Air” opens with the gentle female vocal of guest Mae McKenna, who with her approach is somewhat reminiscent of Annie Haslam (Renaissance), after which a gorgeous Celtic melody on acoustic guitar and flute kicks in. That’s followed by an instrumental reprise with an artful burst of lavish orchestral arrangements and excellent slide guitar passages from Latimer, creating incredible melancholy alongside a fine contribution of flute and percussion, which together build that authentic Celtic atmosphere that carries us to the shores of an old harbour, where ships loaded with passengers sail off to the “promised land”. The title track is packed with extraordinary melancholy, radiated by Andy’s excellent vocal, enriched with tasteful backing vocal harmonies and lovely orchestral arrangements with cello and piano up front. The most beautiful part comes with the gourmet closing slide guitar solo. The short instrumental “Cobh”, which paints a small Irish harbour before our eyes, is full of subtle orchestral arrangements. The sound of violins carries us into the excellent “Send Home The Slates”, where Andy and additional bassist Davdi Patton trade off on lead vocals. The moment the orchestral arrangements fuse with the instrumental passages, an incredibly deep, almost spiritual sound emerges. It’s a successful merging of traditional Irish folk elements with classical passages typical of the band’s traditional sound, and the result is a superb atmosphere. The instrumental “Under The Moon” is another chance for Andy to show off his exceptional guitar talent, shining with an incredibly beautiful and melodic solo. The peak of the album, in my opinion, arrives with the phenomenal epic “Watching The Bobbins”, which, through incredible slide guitar passages, emotional vocals and deep orchestral arrangements, practically bursts with energy and epic atmosphere. Andy’s guitar parts are a true balm for the soul, and if Mr. Gilmour weren’t already creating something similar, I’d even call them some of the best I’ve ever heard from the fingers of any guitarist. It’s especially satisfying that in this track you can clearly make out every last detail: from the slide guitar solos, the wah-wah effect sounds in between, the artful bass and the clever drum transitions to the spacey sound of the keyboards. Definitely one of the best and most beautiful pieces in their career so far. “Generations” is a short symphonic overture into the next piece, the excellent “Eyes Of Ireland”, which is loaded with incredible energy. Latimer sings with remarkable fire once again and uses a lovely acoustic guitar motif, accompanied by dreamy orchestral arrangements. It closes with a Celtic-tinged flute passage. It’s a piece that makes it easy to picture the green eyes of a red-haired beauty standing sadly on the pier, waiting in vain for her beloved to return from the “promised land”. “Running From Paradise”, opened by Celtic-tinged dramatic orchestral arrangements and extended passages on flute and electric guitar, is full of twists and is, mood-wise, the most cheerful piece on the album. In the second minute a gorgeous piano section kicks in, followed by a sudden turn with witty passages on flute, keyboards and guitar that give it an incredibly relaxing feel. “End Of The Day” is a simple, calm ballad that’s really an overture to the next track. “Coming Of Age” is another one of the highlights and a genuine Camel classic, a magical epic you have to hear to believe how the band can once again outdo itself. Andy once more weaves his weeping guitar parts beautifully around a dynamic rhythm line, seasoned with first-class keyboard passages. Especially thrilling is the relaxing transition in the middle section, with its brilliant use of flute, the classical sound of acoustic guitar and mighty walls of sound that lift the piece up yet another notch. That’s followed by an exchange of passages that keep the dreamy mood going the whole time. Further on we can also enjoy some harder-edged guitar riffs. The closing “The Hour Candle” has a classical intro on orchestral arrangements before a weeping slide guitar comes in, serving up melodic and subtle solos once again. Near the end, the traditional Irish motif crashes back into the composition. Anyone who complains about an extra 14 minutes of crashing sea waves has obviously missed the point of this meditative album, which is meant above all to lift the spirit rather than to be listened to in a rationalist-analytical way. One of the album’s main strengths is precisely that behind the melodic arrangements and considerable accessibility lies an extraordinary complexity, where you can discover something new with every listen.
Every time I listen to “Harbour Of Tears” I find myself wondering how the human mind can create something as beautiful, as wonderful and as spirit-lifting as this album, which always carries the listener through a whirlpool of incredible feelings in which they relive the very heart of its concept as if they were part of that era themselves. That’s something I always value highly in today’s world, where we’re used to music being made mostly just for money and often serving to dull the emotionally empty masses. Camel have shown once again how much an independent label and a free approach to making music matter today, because “Harbour Of Tears” is not only one of the best albums in their history but, in my humble opinion, even ranks among the greatest achievements of 90s progressive rock, and can serve future generations of musicians as a textbook example of how to create deep, beautiful, melodic, refined yet complex music without a shred of pretentiousness, needless excess or technical self-validation. “Harbour Of Tears” is conclusive proof that the band’s original magic has fully returned. With a wonderful combination of traditional Celtic motifs and symphonic perfectionism, Camel have created yet another profoundly deep piece of work. So enjoy a masterpiece that will always lift your spirits, take you through catharsis and make you relive the events and feelings of some distant, hard times and a journey you never experienced yourself. A complete victory of breadth of spirit over narrow technical principles.
Line-up
Andrew Latimer – vocals, guitar, flute, keyboards, Irish whistle
Colin Bass – bass guitar, backing vocals
David Patton – bass guitar, backing vocals
Mickey Simmonds – keyboards
John Xepoleas – drums
Mae Mckenna – a cappella vocals
Neil Panton – oboe, soprano saxophone, harmonium
John Burton – French horn
Barry Phillips – cello
Karen Bentley – violin
Anita Stoneham – violin
Production
Andrew Latimer and Colin Bass
Track list
1. Irish Air (0:57)
2. Irish Air (instrumental Reprise) (1:57)
3. Harbour Of Tears (3:13)
4. Cobh (0:51)
5. Send Home The Slates (4:23)
6. Under The Moon (1:16)
7. Watching The Bobbins (7:14)
8. Generations (1:02)
9. Eyes Of Ireland (3:09)
10. Running From Paradise (5:21)
11. End Of The Day (2:29)
12. Coming Of Age (7:22)
13. The Hour Candle (A Song For My Father (23:00)
Album length: 62:14
