Look to the East, Look to the West

Camera Obscura’s comeback album is a thing of real beauty. Campbell writes movingly about memory and friendship. Looking at what was rather than regretting what might have been with an honesty that goes directly to the heart of things. Look to the East, Look to the West is one of the most poignant albums of the year so far.

This album is a spirited, catchy, poignant return, yet it’s also the most affecting record about grief since Nick Cave’s Skeleton Tree.

Their latest is their most consistent yet, and it stands among their best.

The unshakable feeling that emanates from Look to the East, Look to the West, with its sterling production and tuneful chapters, is catharsis, of sensing the world turn in the midst of despair and finding some relief in the aftermaths of sad circumstances beyond our control (Campbell sings of children chasing Pokémon in a park during a pandemic, and of seeing loved ones in her dreams after they’re gone).

Tracyanne Campbell still writes exquisite songs that don’t sacrifice melancholy for cleverness, and the band still provide smart arrangements that nod to country, Motown, Brill Building pop and other distinctly American sounds. [May 2024, p.32]

It’s an album that reveals its charms slowly.

It turns out that subtlety suits them, and if Look to the East, Look to the West isn’t as immediately grabby as past albums were, these songs are nonetheless built to last.

One’s appreciation of Look to the East, Look to the West depends mostly on their appreciation of Campbell’s voice and artistry. Times have changed, but some things remain the same.

Unusual musical choices, like the inclusion of glockenspiel on “Denon,” create some sonic interest. More than anything, though, Camera Obscura excels at generating a mood and a sense of warmth. If they stick too closely to familiar sonic territory on Look to the East, Look to the West, it is, at least, one that they’ve mastered.