We are not a Cigarette Company
Andrew Latimer, Camel and the joy of remaining hidden
Etymology of the name Andrew takes one to Greece. Andrew means brave. However, no sooner is Andrew suffixed with Latimer than dots connect to an Englishman who fronts a once almost-famous rock band. Camel are that band and Andrew Latimer their leader. This is unsolicited blather about Andrew and his Camel.
Camel were formed in London by four fellows - Andrew Latimer, Andy Ward and Doug Ferguson and Peter Bardens. This was late 1971. Why they named the band “Camel” is lost to all concerned. The band logo and typeface share more than a passing likeness to Camel brand of cigarettes, but the two are unrelated. The original line-up released four albums including the classics Mirage, The Snow Goose and Moonmadness.
Musicologists reckon Camel belong to the “Canterbury school” of prog rock, which fused jazz and rock elements as opposed to the “Classical-Rock school” where bands like Emerson, Lake & Palmer, Genesis infused elements of western classical music into rock. Camel’s music in the 1970s, their most coherently productive period, was marked by fashions of the day - concept albums with Moog synth soundscapes, usage of wind instruments, and long instrumental passages. But they were “rarely as flashy as Genesis, never as bombastic as Emerson Lake and Palmer” to quote Rolling Stone magazine.
For seven years after the break up of the original line-up in 1977 Camel saw a string of line-up changes. This was succeeded by legal problems between Latimer and band management, and then health issues faced by Latimer. 1980 onwards, Camel distilled down to Andrew Latimer and handpicked session players. It inexorably became Latimer’s band; concept albums have become more frequent - Nude (1981), Stationary Traveller (1984), Dust and Dreams (1991), and Harbour of Tears(1996). Sonic fads moved from punk rock, hair metal, grunge, new metal but Latimer held steadfast to his Camel. He moved base from UK to USA in 1988, and after failing to secure a record deal created his own label Camel Productions or CP.
You can hit Camel’s official website for timeline and line-up changes. They’ve announced 2023 tour dates, when Latimer would be 74 years old and Covid would be endemic. That is audacity of hope and endurance - just like a camel.
My first encounter with Camel was in my freshman year when a senior handed me an audio cassette of Stationary Traveller. This was before I got acquainted with Camel’s progressive rock brethren Genesis, Rush, Alan Parsons Project; before I was cognisant of prog rock or the mind-stifling nature of music genres as such. For quarter century since then Camel’s music has stayed with me; it surfaces whenever my courage fails the vicissitudes of life. On one hand, Camel’s music is the best antidote to fever dreams, which is often, and on the other hand, it is the soundtrack to my personal Camelot, if I am ever there. If Bertrand Russell’s In Praise of Idleness was to be set to music, Camel would pick itself for the job.
Latimer’s guitar work more than any other facet has kept me engaged to Camel. Melody is the unrivalled master of Andrew Latimer’s guitar playing. It is to Latimer’s guitar template that guitarists Steve Rothery from Marillion and Steven Wilson, ex-Porcupine Tree owe a debt. Latimer’s economy of expression in tracks like Ice is admirable; and before you mistake his elegance for lethargy he can switch gears to play phrases over complex time signatures. That he can accurately reproduce tone and texture of studio recordings in live playing points to use of a simple sound chain with minimal effects and spartan sound production. However, I must admit there are more than a few times I confuse Latimer’s guitar tone or his full-tone bends for that of David Gilmour’s. And, in all their work since 1990s, Latimer overindulges in extended solos - akin to long-form journalism sans a good editor.
While Camel takes me to Camelot, I do feel that they’ve been shortchanged by admirers, media and image pundits. After half a century of making music, Latimer and his Camel attract lazy adjectives - a most underrated guitarist, a band with a cult following. That roughly translates to “Dear Mr. Latimer, only trainspotters, anoraks and coin collectors listen to your music. But we prefer to be PC.”
Being underrated is an uneasy crown in popular culture; a cachet of unwanted virtuosity or, indicative of cultural irrelevance or, both. And, being a cult band is shorthand for having a small, loyal following which shows exaggerated interest. Who decides how small the following has to be for a band to remain cult? At a time when the rock music gestalt has shrunk considerably, do most rock bands not automatically deflate to cult band status?
Psychoanalyst Donald Winnicott said, “it is a joy to be hidden, and disaster not to be found.” By extension, Camel and Andrew Latimer are hidden but not unfound, barely remembered today but not underrated. They may have had only a couple of Gold records but their music is searched on YouTube in 40 countries as per Google Trends, compared to Adele’s in 81 countries. Small, they say? Writing this a few days after Bruce Springsteen selling rights to his musical corpus to Sony Music Entertainment for $550 million, I wonder how much Camel’s body of work from 1970s may be worth? May be that idea is best left hidden.
Post Script: If I could curate a Camel starter set, it’d be:
Instrumental Singles: Ice, Rhayader Goes to Town, Sahara, Stationary Traveller
Studio Album: Mirage (1974)
Live Album: Never Let Go (1993)
Personal Favourites: Stationary Traveller (1984) and re-recording of The Snow Goose (2013)
Beautifully written !!! Loved it