Celebrated Camel composer, singer and guitarist certainly has mastered the art of keeping the caravanserai of brilliant recordings in line with his muse, and what better way than daring the roguish experiment of releasing neither a Camel album or an Andy Latimer one, but rather dumbfounding any critic (for which I am sure he has zero regrets about) by boldly daring to create a new moniker (Andrew) as well as a whopping one piece of continuous music that spans over 49 minutes, without any advance notice on the all mighty internet. Good luck radio play (another element that weighs little in the artist’s current concerns) and let the chips fall where they may. For a reviewer (and a big fan) , the challenge of writing a review with no breaks is like eschewing sprinting in favour of a marathon (which was originally a war story between Greeks and Persians). It goes without saying that this unique structure is as close to a symphony as one could ever hope for, and Andrew surely has amassed five decades worth of musical savoir-faire and if this is his final 21-gun salute , well good on you, mate! While generously lathered with astute orchestrations, all the trademark Camelisms are here to enjoy, from his lead guitar work that has never sounded better, soothing keyboard ramifications, Peter Jones’ genuine voice is as effective as ever, wrapped around cerebral arrangements that are perfectly coordinated, with airy pacing and a sense of intemporal beatitude.
While the classic early Camel albums are firmly ensconced in the pantheon of Prog, I am among the few who cherish his more outlying recordings such as his Stationary Traveller album (because of a personal fascination for East German/West German history), as well as both Harbour of Tears and Rajaz. I always was of the opinion that history would be an excellent source of inspiration, instead of the usual human routine melodrama, where such subject matter as courage in defense of one’s family, determination to overcome suffering , belief in a greater good, and the veneration of those who sacrificed their young lives under unfair circumstances is surely more worthy than some of the narratives currently to be found in the media. War is a curse that is incomprehensible to any open-minded and compassionate human, as one can disagree without resorting to violence, a labyrinthine enigma that has puzzled me for half a century, continuing unabated to this very day. I could rant on the too many personal observations and profound interviews with veterans within the subject of warfare that would add even more substance, but this is a music site not the History Channel.
Musically speaking there is a cerebral solemnity throughout the entire project that permeates deep into the soul, his guitar playing has always seemed to me way more grief-stricken than his close colleague David Gilmour, and here his bluesy disconsolateness is urgently magical. The infusion of piano, remorseful bass and the percussive element has been purposefully left as understated as possible, all played posthumously by Guy LeBlanc, only elevating the distress further. The exchanges between the rolling organ and the phosphorescent guitar are easily highpoints, the sombre cellos not too far in the trenches, the funereal pace leading up to an eventual artillery barrage of bombarding detonations that signal the imminent finality of the hostilities. ‘Dawn breaks on another dismal day’, poignantly sings Peter Jones , a yearning to return to the real meaning of life: peace, love and decency. Andrew’s guitar has never cried more passionately, so deliberately magnanimously, holding on to the comfort of home being where the real truth lies.
Not only a superb testament to a brilliant career but also a benchmark for what progressive rock can achieve to heal even the worst of pains. Personally, this is Andrew Latimer’s crowning achievement in music, he leaves his best at the end, a fitting chapter in a life well lived. Take an hour from your hectic schedule, shut out all the tediously repetitive noise, close your eyes and open your ears to this uplifting musical experience. There is little out there to compare it to, its that unique in the annals of contemporary rock. War and Peace, which will it be?
5 white doves