The Last Dinosaur (a musical collective headed by and the brainchild of songwriter Jamie Cameron) returns with his new album “Wholeness”, the third Lp which follows on from critically acclaimed second album “The Nothing” in 2017 and the debut album “Hooray! For Happiness” in 2010.
“Music has always been everything to me,” Cameron elaborates. “It was all I ever truly cared about.” Born in 1984, he grew up a shy, sensitive child in a seemingly contented family in the Essex countryside, drawing comics, making home videos, developing an interest in photography, and immersing himself in a wild variety of different sounds. Initially inspired by his father, who took the family to Cropredy every year to nurse his passion for English folk music – from Fairport Convention to Fotheringay – Cameron soon expanded his horizons to include bands like The Blue Nile, Tears for Fears, Dead Can Dance, World Party, Crowded House and REM, all acts notable for their sincerity, though their effects on his own music are otherwise opaque. “Melody and harmony do something magical to me,” he explains. “I used to sit at the back of the people carrier on drives to France, quietly singing along to the holiday mixtape in a pathetic, weak falsetto to myself, harmonising with the main vocal.”
“Wholeness” is out now.
What Jamie Says:
“I lost my job. I lost confidence. I lost my mind. I made this record”.
““I like to think that my motto is Never write the same song twice. I just really like experimenting. I think that’s when I feel most confident, most proud: when I’ve produced something and I can’t explain where it came from, and I can’t even credit myself for it. I just try to create that indefinable feeling which I can only describe as a heady, exciting rush of euphoria and adrenaline at the sudden realisation that right this second, you’re alive, and anything is possible. Music really is incredible.”
Rosa Branca by O Grupo
I stumbled upon this song earlier in the year. Today I decided that if my life were a television show, this would be the theme music.
Heart Attack by Kurt Vile
Those first few Kurt Vile albums are just incredible. Lo-fi perfection. The songwriting is outstanding. Blackberry Song is probably my favourite on this album (Childish Prodigy) but this song is high up there. The way it moves and unfolds really tugs at something inside of me. The beautiful falsetto shriek makes the hair on my arms stand.
1985 by Tarwater
The vocal delivery is wonderfully monotonous. The way his voice contrasts against the glorious arrangement and how it interacts rhythmically with the percussion creates such a perplexingly uplifting and joyous song.
Ulysses by Dead Can Dance
I wrote about this song a few years back in an article about my favourite ten songs from the 4AD catalogue. I probably can’t put it much better now so I’ll slightly adapt what I put then: A spider running up a glass staircase before being displaced by a beautiful flood of water. Brendan Perry sounds like he’s delivering the Sermon on the Mount with a voice so incredibly rich, echoing across earth. Arrangement-wise there are so many parts to fall in love with in this song, so much complexity, so much depth in its beauty.
House by A Grave With No Name
I love this song so much. It’s fucking breathtaking to me. Cymbals, wash my sins away.
Ripped Islands by Chad VanGaalen
Chad VanGaalen’s catalogue is the gift that keeps on giving ad this song is no exception. A fuzzy, messy, gorgeous anthem for the dispossessed that collapses in on itself before flickering back into existence.
Prayer of Baphomet by Cindy Lee
Eavesdropping on a memory of a prayer for a better life.
Offine by Alex Kozobolis
I will never go very long before I listen to this piece of music again. It’s the sound of slowly falling into forever.
(Here you can find the “infamous” spotify playlist:
“Wholeness“ is out now. Look HERE for more information on The Last Dinosaur.