The weekend Alex Cameron’s “Miami Memory” was released, I began a journey to the LA County Fair — an ultimately delightful evening, but to arrive I snaked through downtown congestion, wound out to suburban congestion, charged thru collision traffic, crawled from the freeway into a parking lot line, then queued to take a shuttle to a ticket line… enough time to consume the full album. While waiting anxiously in line to relieve myself at the urinal trough, I composed my initial review of MIAMI MEMORY — I love it. I will add that in addition to listening to the album start to finish, I also nibbled on Springsteen and (to a less fulfilling extent) Billy Joel tracks, both of which heavily influence Alex Cameron’s generational refresh and response to their music.

First track STEPDAD offers a saccharine chorus, with faux heroism and unreliable narration, however it reveals an important theme of the album and Cameron’s canon: if yer lookin for an anthem to the overlooked, look no further. The same can be said of FAR FROM BORN AGAIN, where “are you seeing what I’m seeing?” with appropriate saxiness (provided by creative partner slash business associate Rory Molloy) and drumming cowbell underneath radiates through the full album. For what it’s worth, “Born Again” invites the most likely sing-along chorus, and, frankly could well be a strip club anthem in the coming decade.

Such an unflinching gaze at, say, the beauty of mother of two mesmerizing her admirers from the mirrored stage also calls our attention to less savory subjects in BAD FOR THE BOYS and DIVORCE. “Bad for the Boys” is a timely retort to incel culture (did they have a torch song previously?) with jangling piano riffs and sliding blues guitar, presenting a gloss that allows for a biting critique of the social inept. Along with GASLIGHT — which features an accordion and conjures 90’s Hootie and the Blowfish vibes — these songs represent a unique peril to learning new Alex Cameron songs and a danger of singing in mixed company. At first their musical construction within the confines of pop tradition allow for the listener to anticipate chorus and melody, and coax you into singing along, before trapping you in a song about incles, gaslighting, and bitter divorce. “I got friends in Kansas City with a motherfucking futon couch, If that’s how you want to play it” is hard not to sign along with the second go-round in the song! Before long you’ll be chanting “divorce, divorce, divorce” right along with him before realizing the bleakness of your merriment.

After seeing Cameron’s touring performance in support of this album, I can only add that this lyricism and delivery are at the core of Cameron’s appeal to fans. Singing along to “divorce” with 100 fellow spectators gifts bodily affirmation. Yes, you are in on the joke. No, we don’t all feel OK. Sure, you, too can be a merry prankster.

This brings me to the masterful centerpiece of the album and title track, MIAMI MEMORY. This song has been in my rotation since its video release. I appreciate the garish drum machine announcing hollow tone to the bones upon which to hang orchestration and lyricism. To offset the drum machine, we hear a series of resonant chords and swirling synth strings before the lyrics enter: “holding your hand to make sure you’re never too far out of reach”, offering a simple and heartfelt sentiment unparalleled on the album, and exhibiting more devotion than any other Cameron “love” song. Then there’s the chorus, fronting poetic observation before introducing extended metaphor of love as a city fated for imminent flood destruction. “Eating your ass like an oyster / before you came like a tsunami” deserves commendation for its boldness and execution, and for its crafty and crass linkage between ecstasy and death. But it’s the following verse that elevates Cameron to Leonard Cohen echelon of songwriting (everybody knows that the boat is leaking, everybody knows that the captain lied…)

Knowing the world is a sinking ship

Knowing we’ve been here before

Knowing when cars fill with water

A vacuum seals the door

With the power of “knowing”, what are we to make of the wicked and wild world? Is there a wine as sweet as the one enjoyed by a benevolent scoundrel? What for the fallen saint? Do you wish to un-know? In the words of another master of persona, Samuel Clemens: “go to heaven for the climate, hell for the companionship”. Alex Cameron’s depiction of pre-apocalypse purgatory offers servings from both.

(Originally published December 12, 2019.)