My favourite novel is Mark Z. Danielewski's House Of Leaves, a fearful meta-fictional tale about how the pursuit of knowledge and truth is ultimately a vacuous and terrifying journey into the self, revealing a nihilism that reflects upon the emptiness of existence. In its fiercely resistant attempts at being discovered, its active rejection of any meaning the reader may impart upon it, the book twists and turns, snarlingly forcing the reader to start examining themselves, redefining the relationship between text and reader.
Camel Walk's The Wheel Deal also has nothing really going for it at its core, but instead of this being something negative, it's instead super positive and awesome and happy. And, where House of Leaves breaks down the fourth wall between the novel and the reader in a violent manner, The Wheel Deal also tries to break this boundary, by just being really up-front and honest about the fact that it's, well, not really going to blow your ass off. But in a good way. It's a funny, earnest and experimental record that invites the listener in under the pretence of there maybe being something a bit deeper to it, even though at its core there's not really a lot of substance.
And again, that's not a bad thing, especially when the band seem to recognise it as such and signpost it accordingly. Pressing play greets you with singer James Joel Dann enthusiastically exclaiming "Hello Wembley!" before telling you thanks for buying their CD. Awww, it's so sweet, but it's also clever. "Over the course of this CD, we'll get to know each other a bit better" Dann continues, "we're gonna have some laughs, and we're gonna have some tears but, hopefully, we'll get through it together!" To go back to House of Leaves, that book destroys the typical barrier between text and reader by the preface of "this is not for you," starting a long meta-fictional war against the person who reads it. The Wheel Deal also tears down that wall, but not by staring you down, instead by inviting you in. There's no line between you listening to the record and the record being unable to respond; it anticipates and frames how you listen to the record. It's smart, and luckily over the course of The Wheel Deal, Camel Talk pull it off.
The introduction develops into The Seasons Have Goosed Us (Man Is An Animal), an acerbic and comedic song that has Dann presupposing that the seasons are meals, whilst guitarist Alex Thomas' simple chord patterns and lead orchestrations add a whimsical charm that characterise Camel Walk's music. But there's also something sinister going on underneath it all, with talks of car crashes, haunting buses, before the stream of consciousness moves into a list of animals and a dialogue between Dann and Thomas talking about the implications of man being an animal. "Have you seen a man or a monkey in the wild? They're so alike, yet so different," Dann offers to the listener. Poignant criticism on the inherent nihilism of human society, an informed insult on anthropocentric world views? Or just complete idiotic bullshit? Probably the latter. It's still dead fun though, and if you don't crack a smile I think something's wrong with you.
See, there's something gleefully idiotic about the entire thing. Not that it's trying to be dumb, it just is dumb. The next track, Hole In The Sky, is a drone song that's pretty much just one note over. And over. And over. And the only lyrics are "Hole in the sky / Everybody prays to the hole in the sky". It's as if Flight of the Conchords dropped acid whilst trying their best to outdo Spinal Tap. And the best thing is, it kind of works in bringing the listener into this trippy, droney music, before being rudely disrupted by an - I kid you not - iPhone notification alarm. The first time I heard it, I was a bit confused. The second time I heard it, I was laughing my ass off. It's great, showing that Camel Walk are aware that they're just two dudes making music that doesn't really mean anything, not caring about quality production or writing the best songs ever, but just having fun.
And if it wasn't for the little asides - such as A Brief History of Camel Walk, which details Camel Walk's frustration with a lack of recognition for rehearsing in a bureau de change, an absurd situation that would fit in nicely on some kind of Chris Morris comedy, or The Right Choice, which is pretty much just Dann talking about how he can't open letters or any form of packaging -, adding an air of levity to the EP, or the fact that the music is so inherently funny - the weird, slightly discordant harmonies at the start of Carter adding an air of melodrama to stupid rhyming verses, or The Oxen Song's melodramatic delivery about some agricultural kitchen sink drama -, The Wheel Deal wouldn't really work. It would just be a load of songs that were really cool and really hip and really funny but would just feel a bit... eh. Impersonal. But it's the fact that there's no barrier between you and the band, the record instead inviting you in to laugh along with them and just enjoy what they've made.
It's not just the same old thing over and over again though, and on Simon, Camel Walk branch out and make a stab at going for your heartstrings. Again prefaced by Dann, this time talking about his and Thomas' SEN at the school they went to being poor - "I said I have dyslexia, and they gave me an inhaler"-, the song is a little bit more serious. In this light, the weirdly yelped harmonies that have characterised the other songs become more desperate, the lyrics more pleading and confused, detailing a relationship between a student and his impatient SEN mentor, Simon. Thomas' plea that "my brain don't work the way you seem to want my brain to do" provides the climax of the track, the strangled cry of someone who doesn't understand how to perform what's expected of them. It's still light-hearted, it's still funny, but it's really well executed in blending their style with serious subject matter and shows that there's more to Camel Walk than just skits and self-depreciation.
My only real criticism is that the EP goes on one song too long. It's not because Albert is a bad song. It's a funky and funny song about a horse that imports steel and exports sulphur, it just feels a little bit tacked on and doesn't really go with the flow. And it's also because Steak Hammer is the best song on The Wheel Deal. A breakup song about replacing an ex lover - and the concept of love itself - with steak, Steak Hammer is a funny and powerful take on that worn out subject matter, with Thomas' snarling vocals being more prevalent in the mix and adding a sense of urgency and intensity to the song's verse. The melodrama again emerges towards the end of the song, as Dann and Thomas lament how they used to "hammer on a steak for two, now I hammer on a steak for one," but here it's played to great effect because of its dynamics. And the simple, sing along chorus shows that Camel Walk have a real knack for writing catchy comedy-pop alongside their more ramblingly rambunctious experimental offerings.
The Wheel Deal isn't the most amazing album you'll ever listen to, but it's a really interesting and unique one, and it's hard to think of another band doing what Camel Walk do and pulling it off so well. Without the charm of the inter-song skits, the yelpy vocals, the random stream of thought consciousness and the weirdo introductions, this EP could have fallen flat. Instead, Camel Walk present themselves honestly and cleverly, and invite you in to their weird little world, and that's something to be admired.
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