Worldy folk-rock with brilliant attention to detail
This suited my mood exactly when I first listened to it. Lying on the floor in the middle of the room, the tracks melting smoothly into each other as they drifted from the stereo. There is no better soundtrack to that inner melancholy and hopelessness than title track ‘Moi et Mon Camion (The Eviction Song)’. It captures perfectly that studenty feel of having all your worldly possessions permanently boxed up and ready to move to another dive after a few months, or dossing with mates until you out-stay your welcome. Melding the lyrical simplicity and pinpoint accuracy of observation by guitar-and-vocal artists such as Dylan and Tom Petty, the first two tracks roll by beautifully. No, the whole album does.
‘Shun (Sad Eyed Days)’ starts with the guitar and vocals, and yet mixes in the merest hint of world music beats, delicate finger cymbals and bells, with slow electronica to create a variation very rare in ‘acoustic’ sounding albums. ‘Malcolm’ is another melancholy dreamlike track, much like the start of the album, but with a kooky, spooky twist. It even borders on folk music towards the end of the album, in ‘No Bells Left To Chime’ and ‘The First & Last Waltz’.
‘Moi et Mon Camion’ (the album) is a curious mixture of cultures and worldly-wise acoustica from the eclectic Conrad Lambert (aka Merz). You find yourself drawn to this album like it’s something precious that you have to handle very carefully in case it breaks, an impression strengthened by Lambert’s distinctive vocals and delicate melodic riffs. If there was the perfect soundtrack to the simultaneous joys and exhaustion of both travelling and coming home, like an exquisite sunset, waiting by the roadside for the breakdown rescue to arrive, or arriving home at dawn, this would be it. Deliciously intimate and heartfelt, it’s as if each song is played once only, a unique experience. Latest single ‘Silver Moon Ladders’ is probably the best example of that, with sweet guitar refrains and choral backing that seems to stretch on forever.
For the more upbeat (musically, if not lyrically), check out the rockier ‘Presume Too Much’ and ‘Lucky Adam’, which hints at more chart-friendly indie influences without straying too far from the acoustic side of the album.
If I seem to be waxing lyrical about this album, it’s with good reason. It’s the most unique and neatly observed - the most human - album I have heard in a long time. At times the songs are in their own little dreamland, but then again the lyrics expose the all-too down-to-earth emotional reality of everyday life. What better form of escapism, to transfer these experiences into music?