Posted on December 14, 2022
Album Review by Mia Call, photos by Addie Briggs.
If this Bay Area winter has taught us anything, it's that when it rains, it pours. Luckily, on December 8th, Berkeley-based indie artist Chammeili released the perfect soundtrack for an overcast East Bay Sunday. Icy Blue distills the hushed, cool quality of singer Kaamya Sharma’s voice with reserved acoustics and unsettling lyrics. Released on El-Cerrito based label Lavasocks, Chammeili’s debut takes a quieter, more haunting approach to youth than any of the band’s previous songs.
Over soft fingerpicking and melancholic synths, on the chilling track “Twenty Three,” Sharma sings “you will be twenty three / For sixteen more years.” The way she sings it, it sounds more threatening than reassuring. While Sharma’s soft, flutey voice and the tight, yet laid back synth and guitar sounds on this album (courtesy of Andres Tepedelenlioglu Soult) are reminiscent of Soccer Mommy’s debut For Young Hearts, the lyrics play at something more sinister. Wheraws on previous songs, like the addictive “Dirty laundry,” Chammeili explored the messiness of not having everything figured out, this new album, in songs like “Hush Now”, the singer-songwriter seems to have grown into understanding herself now: now she sings “I can feel you in my bones.” A sense of intuition and new understanding has Chammeili taking action in a broken world. Youth doesn’t seem messy, or confusing. It doesn’t seem joyful either. Instead, the songs develop a twin sense of the quiet care and reassurance of growing older and the impending sense of doom that comes with understanding the world better. Over grooving bass and echoing guitars, she commands us to “take cover.” Sharma’s world might seem twisted and cold, but now she’s in charge.
Chameilli’s lyrics evoke disturbing images, but Sharma’s soft voice makes them seem like reassurances, like the kind of promises we make in the face of the unknown, and her relationships seem tied up in both the ghosts of the past and a safer future. Lyrically, it reminds of Cat Power’s Moon Pix, both nightmarish and ethereal, evoking both impending doom and comfort in the crush. On the penultimate track, “Aao Na,” Sharma sings entirely in Hindi, about disappearing love and a fake spring, yet through the sparse, dreamlike quality of the track, I didn’t need to translate the lyrics to know she was singing about memory and change and loss — on this album Chameilli’s world transcends lyrics. Every crystal clear note has the same haunting quality as lines like “And if at all you see a ghost / it’s yours.”
As far as a debut LP goes, Chammeili brings the best of both worlds: just enough quirks to make it memorable, just enough pop to make it catchy. While the lyrics are sometimes so vague they borderline on cliche (even the title of the album is a a little too obvious), and the reliance on quiet fingerpicking might get old on tracks like “Bird on a Wire,” Icy Blue creates a world of melancholic youth, forgotten memory, and lost time, perfect for winter introspection. It’s a world both warm and cold, comforting and foreign, uncertain and confident. If Chameilli wishes to sound like a thunderstorm, as Sharma sings in the title track, they will also bring you a place to keep you somewhere safe and warm.
Favorite Tracks: Hush Now, Twenty Three, Don’t You Remember