Camera Obscura: My Maudlin Career

A bag in the fridge marked "Dead Dove, Do Not Eat!"; an album pairing a band name steeped in Mohistic technology and an album title depicting self-pitying, tearful journeys. Neither should leave you in any doubt as to what the contents are.

Glaswegian five-and-a-half piece Camera Obscura have spent the last thirteen years wading happily in the twee-pop lake. Come their fourth album and the linguistic focus remains squarely on the romantic entanglements and catastrophes of front-woman Tracyanne Campbell. With her average tryst having the kind of ending that would make Atonement's look welcoming, there is a battle at hand to stop the whole shebang feeling distinctly Maudlin mawkish.

"French Navy" attempts this feat in grand fashion. Pairing resolutely upbeat strings with a sprightly drum beat and Campbell's rueful, yet positive tone, it may be a song which ends in heartbreak ("I wanted to control it / But love, I couldn't hold it") but it carries an epitaph housing a slither of hope: a brief splinter of light amidst the hurt.

This approach seems designed to reflect life in general. Life, for the most part is moving from one disappointment to another. True happiness lies in knowing how to appreciate the good times while they can be found - fragile and fleeting - in the cracks. So while the upbeat tempos don't hold throughout the album, the moments when they are present, are made all the more sweet in their sincerity.

On the other side of the coin are the works that exude misery and are all the better for not trying to temper it. "Away With Murder", "James" and "Other Towns and Cities" push the percussion to the back-burner and wallow in the exquisite depression of things going wrong. "I looked deep within myself / I got scared by just how hard I fell / Oh, James. You broke me, I thought I knew you well" sings Campbell on the break-up lament that is "James". There is a clear distinction between sympathy and empathy. While most song-writers can, at best, elicit sympathy. Campbell's vulnerable, broken spirit easily coaxes out vast quantities of empathy. You begin to share her pain, and the experience is all the more rewarding for this symbiotic Folie à deux.

"Swans" receives the award for best riff, with its jubilant and bouncy nature framing a rather bonkers tale of recovery. This mixture of melancholy, ambivalence and jubilance spread throughout the album lathers rich texture upon every moment. My Maudlin Career feels as much of a journey as anything ever could. While detractors may point to lack of progression, there's no problem with stopping to enjoy the view when you find a place this pretty.