Camel
Live At The Royal Albert Hall

THE REVIEW

After the celebration of the masterpiece “The Snow Goose,” Camel revisit the complete performance of “Moonmadness” four years later, a title that closes the trilogy that began in '74 with Mirage. It would have been a dream to attend the event, as I did four years ago in Vicenza, where I still carry the vibrations on my skin. Unfortunately, the Camel has decided not to visit our country this time, a strange choice for a '70s progressive band, given the considerable following of Italian fans for this genre of music. The magic of the live performance at the Royal Albert Hall in London, the sacred temple of music, remains.

The intro “Aristillus,” even before the protagonists appear on stage, is imposing: a few minutes of organ with a crystalline and expansive sound fill the atmosphere with space notes. Written by the brilliant and late Peter Bardens, the opening piece paves the way for a band classic “Song Within A Song”: a carpet of keyboards and synthesizers and a soft guitar arpeggio slowly lead to the central part where Latimer's Gibson breaks in, roaring and delicate in a balance only he can find. The four musicians harmonize wonderfully, but the inclusion of the blind multi-instrumentalist Pete Jones is particularly surprising, a great performer and a highly respected vocalist. The instrumental “Chord change,” with its jazz-fusion nuances and very complex compositionally, adds nothing new to the studio version; it remains, as always, an iconic piece showcasing the band's and leader's skill. An emotional and moving Colin Bass gifts us the melancholic “Spirit Of The Water,” accompanied on flute by the impeccable Andy, while “Another Night” surprises with a distorted guitar groove and a decidedly aggressive sound that then magnificently resolves into a sweet Camel-style refrain, sung by the keyboardist Jones. The band's cohesion is palpable. Often Andy moves toward Colin, seeking a duet during the performance, involving drummer Denis Clement. The three deliver moments of great visual impact, aided by the album's natural setlist that alternates lively moments with soft Canterbury sounds. Andy again introduces the sweet “Air Born” magnificently sung by Pete Jones. We thus arrive, almost without realizing it, at the final “Lunar Sea,” a monument of instrumental progressive. The heavenly atmospheres captivate us, a prelude to a lunar sea where time seems to stand still and the sound seems enveloped in a metallic shell. It's a piece to be listened to with closed eyes, trapping us and leaving us suspended in the awareness that something might change at any moment. And that's what happens because after the soft keyboards, an urgent drum rhythm takes shape, opening a prairie to Andy's hungry guitars that begin to dominate the scene with daring virtuosity and intelligent harmonic solutions until, having placated their wrath, the piece closes as it began, with the ethereal and celestial atmospheres of a lunar sea.

After several minutes of pause and a delirious audience, the group returns to the stage more determined than ever and resumes with an interesting “Unevensong” from the jazzy period of Rain Dances and immediately after with the beautiful “Hymn To Her” from I Can See Your House From Here, an album I do not particularly love for the dangerously pop tendency of those years. The track is instead one of the most complex from a guitar perspective, often performed live also to showcase the frontman's great skills. “End Of The Line” is sung almost exclusively by Pete, a choice that suits the intimate theme of the album Dust And Dreams. A successful track both for the vocalist's abilities and for the arrangement, which gives it a modern touch and partly reassesses it more than the original album production does. The guitarist is still in great form with the long and overwhelming “Coming Of Age,” followed by ten minutes I would dare to call unforgettable. Courageously, Andy sings one of the most beautiful gems of Camel's discography: “Rajaz.” Here lies the band's greatness, composing a track of such intensity and evocative power, at the sunset, if we can say, of their musical career. It was 1999. More than a song, it is poetry: the song of the nomads crossing the desert with their camels. It's touching to see how much Andy believes in what he says, in what he does; consistency is his best trait following his guitar skills. The signs of time and the emotion of the song further deform his face, transmitting a visceral love for the music. Pete handles the song solo, reinterpreting Andy's melancholic guitar notes and gifting additional little gems. It's 5 minutes of pure emotion, condensed in the sweat that drops on his sax. Standing, his eyes look far, though not seeing, while Andy as a showman invites the audience to follow the camel's rhythm with clapping hands. The song ends with a delirious audience and the musicians in emotional ecstasy.

It's not over, as a few minutes later, the time needed to catch their breath, Pete introduces on the piano the now unforgettable notes of “Ice,” explaining that it was the piece he auditioned for the band with. Andy takes back the stage, literally providing lessons in guitar playing, amid delicate notes and furious solos. The piece in question is another historical gem of the band, entirely instrumental. Thus approaches the concert's end, with the awareness of witnessing the most beautiful live album published by the English band. Two other superb tracks from the album Dust and Dreams are often performed together seamlessly: “Mother Road” and “Hopeless Anger.” The first is introduced by Bass, recalling the album's theme, a concept album centered on the Great Depression of the early 1900s, a famine that crippled the agricultural economy of entire America and drove many farmers to migrate west (Go West) toward California in search of fortune along the “Mother Road.” The melody is sublime, as is Latimer's and Bass's voice. The compelling rhythm seems to accompany the caravan journeys on the dirt roads. “Hopeless Anger” is even more energetic and fiery; the guitars dominate the scene, technically a very complex piece, especially rhythmically, with excellent Clement on drums. Toward the piece's end, like a mirage after much suffering, the typical Camel melodies return. Closing the concert is the sweet “Long Goodbyes,” but after a few minutes, the group returns to the stage and performs 18 minutes of the magnificent “Lady Fantasy.” Still with much adrenaline in their bodies, Camel retrace in this suite their entire career, a sort of journey back in time to 1974 when prog was perhaps reaching the end of its brief but intense life, while for Camel it was just the beginning of a journey marked by consistency. A career that still in 2018 offers gems like this indispensable and thrilling album. Thank you again, Andy!