
Celebrating Roddy Frame on his 62nd birthday. —Ed.
While technically a band, Aztec Camera was always the creative brainchild of Scotsman Roddy Frame. On the debut LP High Land, Hard Rain, released in 1983 through Rough Trade in the UK and via Sire in the US, he made an outstanding case for himself as one of the decade’s great pop music auteurs. The album embraced intelligence and sophistication as it abandoned any pretense to a rapidly aging punk standard that spawned it, and if it isn’t perfect, 30 years after High Land, Hard Rain’s making it wears its minor flaws very gracefully.
High Land, Hard Rain opens with “Oblivious,” one of the record’s more famous tracks, though in hearing it with fresh ears after a very long absence I was struck by two elements. The first was the heights of Roddy Frame’s pop ability and at the tender age of 18; where much pop climbs to greatness in the details, “Oblivious” can be accurately assessed as an exceptionally written tune. It attains its success through sublime construction around a foundation that many well-respected songwriters twice his age had never managed to build.
The second element was Aztec Camera’s sheer level of dedication to an unabashedly erudite sensibility. This was maximal, accessible, unabashedly sophisticated Pop Music not only shirking off any tangible debt to punk but also steering far clear of the swelling tide of the synth-wave. And this relates directly to my third thought; in the bass line to “Oblivious” lays the key to so much of High Land, Hard Rain’s essence.
I’ll start by mentioning that I’m not smitten with Campbell Owens’ playing on the song, which is lightly and tastefully funk-tinged in a manner undeniably ‘80s, though my lack of regard for the bassist’s swagger hardly sinks the whole. Aztec Camera at this point functioned as a band, with Bernie Clark on keyboards and Dave Ruffy on drums/percussion alongside Owens’ bass and Frame’s vocals, guitar and harmonica, but they also operated squarely in the pop zone and lacked any significant rock gestures.





Glasgow, UK | 12 of the best record shops in Glasgow in 2026: These are the best record shops you need to visit in Glasgow. Glasgow is a city that takes its music seriously. Renowned for its rich musical heritage, it boasts a wide range of record shops to explore, no matter what genre you’re searching for. The city has produced some huge acts, including Simple Minds, Franz Ferdinand and Primal Scream, many of whom began their musical journeys browsing the racks of local record stores in their younger days. Although vinyl has enjoyed a well-documented comeback in recent years, the revival came too late for many much-loved shops. …If you’re seeking shelter from the rain or hunting for an album that’s long eluded you, here’s a list of
Camarillo, CA | American Pie Record shop revives vinyl culture: Aisles of 






New Haven, CT | “Freedom Songs” Creates A Sonic Roadmap For The Present: Music floated through the lower level of 1020 Chapel St, winding its way around low tables and handmade, wooden bins that housed sleeves and sleeves of vinyl. From a record player, a quartet of steady voices rose through the space, tired but clear. Oh Pritchett! Oh, Kelly! Oh Pritchett, open them cells, they called, unearthing a whole history in under a minute. Atop the collections, photographs of Martin Luther King Jr., James Baldwin, Oscar Micheaux, W.E.B. Du Bois, Malcolm X, and Mary White-Ovington looked back. That sound came to the Chapel Street record store GRAILS last Monday, during the shop’s first ever “Freedom Songs,” a day-long listening session dedicated to the music of the Civil Rights movement. Designed to celebrate the life and legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., the day invited people to explore social justice and Black revolution through songs, speeches, and poetry of freedom, bringing to the present
Augusta, GA | Vinyl Record Fair goes on without a scratch: Despite the impending arrival of Winter Storm Fern and the dipping temperatures, a Jan. 24 event at the Westobou Gallery on 1129 Broad St. had record numbers. Strike that. Reverse it. But don’t scratch it. They had a number of records—



But then my friend Hank Dittmar who has forgotten more about music than I’ll ever know recommended this 1972 live album by the J. Geils Band, whom I saw at Shippensburg College in the late seventies but can’t really remember seeing at Shippensburg College in the late seventies because I was totally blotto on a combination of Wild Turkey and Placidyl, the latter of which I can only describe as an industrial strength memory dissolvent.










































