Aztec Camera
High Land, Hard Rain

THE REVIEW

Snapshot 1983. A shy and unknown Scottish boy, Roddy Frame, travels from Glasgow down to London in search of fortune with the group that, in the early '80s, had released a series of well-received singles through a small label. The group is called Aztec Camera, but they are essentially his creation, fundamentally sessionmen devoted to the harmonic visions of this barely adult singer-songwriter who has set his mind on sending shivers down the spine of Elvis Costello, who was finally receiving the accolades in England that he had been denied, especially by critics.
The opportunity is golden: recording an album for Sire records, having singles launched properly on the radio, and everything that comes with it. Roddy doesn't need to be told twice, and the result of this work is still being discussed over 20 years later.

A little personal aside: I discovered Aztec Camera shamefully late, around the late '90s with a solo album by Frame titled "North Star" which I didn't like at all. "Soft Pop for old fogies," I thought.
Nonsense. Thanks to the spread of songs by bands like Travis or Belle & Sebastian, I traced back to the roots of that Scottish pop tradition which seems to never end.
But, still, I wasn't satisfied. Their best-known album, "Love" from 1988, matched my taste to a certain extent: somewhat predictable songwriting, overly polished sound... better Deacon Blue at these levels, or the Waterboys.
However, I knew there was a gem, a pearl that ABSOLUTELY needs to be rediscovered and given the rightful ovation, and it's this "High Land, Hard Rain" which I can fearlessly claim as one of the best albums I have ever listened to, a collection of breath-catching tracks for their freshness, immediacy, and irresistible melancholy "made in Scotland".
There are at least two hits that I believe anyone aged between 25 and 40 has heard at least once in their life, "Oblivious" and "Walk Out To Winter," which are authentic classics of the '80s despite those who consider the pop music of those years as junk... these two fabulous songs greatly inspired the catchiest and lightest moments of a seminal band like The Smiths (listen to "Cemetery Gates" and "William, It Was Really Nothing" from the Manchester ensemble to understand how), but the whole album is delightful from start to finish, from festive moments like "Pillar To Post" or "The Boy Wonders" to elegant ballads like "Back On Board" and "Release".
Latin sounds (whether cheerful or sad) magically blend with a typically British taste for melody and a detached yet involved singing style... beautiful, unbeatable tracks that even diminish in my eyes contemporary acts like Prefab Sprout's "Steve McQueen," adorned with surprisingly impeccable arrangements (considering that at the time Roddy Frame was barely 18 years old and that these songs transitioned within a few months from simple home demos to illuminating gems of rare and carefree beauty).

Ultimately, an authentic masterpiece that stands out on its own, beyond the subsequent production of the "group": if we consider the competitive environment "High Land, Hard Rain" faced upon its release (the fabulous debuts of Style Council, Everything But The Girl, and Talk Talk, not to mention The Smiths), one can understand how the musical genius of this former enfant prodige cannot continue to be "underestimated" for anything in the world, in the name of the cliché mockery related to '80s pop music: If I could give advice to a teenager who thinks perfect pop is that of Coldplay or James Blunt, I would tell them to toss those records in the trash and give a listen to songs that envelop the hearing in a timeless and sense-challenging vortex like "We Could Send Letters" or "The Bugle Sounds Again," besides those already mentioned.
Sometimes, "maturity" risks making you worse. Luckily, memories and records like this still exist.