5 out of 5
Produced by: Bernie Clark, John Brand
Label: Sire
You’ve heard this story before, but ye can’t stop me from tellin’ it again.
The year was… sometime in the past, and brother was home from school, all be-learned in new, fascinating music the likes of which my teen ears hadnt heard.. Except, sorta’ not, as it was the 90s, I was already on my way to becoming an indie asshole, and my brother dear did a deep dive into 80s music a la Haircut 100 – which wasn’t to my tastes – so I didn’t hold out much hope for new discoveries.
Nonetheless, the man suggested I take a listen to this folksy joint by a juve named Roddy Frame, playing under his nom de plume of Aztec Camera. “What year was this made?” I asked, and when 1983 was the reply, verily didst my ears close. But when ‘Oblivious’ began to play, I asked again – “What year?” only now I was incredulous as to that answer.
Years later, I still can’t really believe it, and I still can’t exactly put my finger on what “it” is. High Land kicked off, for me, a love affair with Roddy Frame’s entire catalogue – yes, Love included – and so I wouldn’t dismiss his later output by saying that his debut is his outright best, but it does have a unique component: it feels like a band. All tracks scribed by the troubadour, but the gang vocals and more aggressive instrumentation feel like they’re produced by a unit, and not just directed by one madly talented dude. On later albums, Aztec Camera would feel like just a cover for Frame as a solo artist. Great material was undoubtedly produced. But whether it’s scrappy youth sprung from a burgeoning punk and DiY scene or some other aligning of factors, there is an absolute energy surging through this disc from end to end. And I don’t think we’d again get lyrics this dark, or drumming as pummeling as on The Boy Wonders, or something as poppy playful as Queen’s Tattoos. The lyrics became more refined; the compositions less showy – both maturity of the sound, but sometimes that abandon of the first album is a rush, and I got that rush in my first listen, and still, years later.
What’s also fascinating from this retrospective position is how Frame’s shifts toward gospel-touched balladry or more open-ended note-sprinkled tunes is hinted at at this early stage: Pillar to Post has the backbone of a Stray or Love track, while Back On Board has the serenading aspect of his later solo work.
The album clearly ends with Down the Dip, but all later reissues came with some tracks from a preceding EP. …Which are all on par with the album, and give the disc an excellent coda.
A tried and true classic.