The World. Oh No. doesn’t just inform you about what it’s like to live within an unpredictable body; it makes you experience the panic, exhaustion, anger and uncertainty through the music itself. The album The World. Oh No. by Beth Cameron is highly personal, yet it doesn’t come across as a series of songs merely describing the experiences she has had. Instead, she transforms those experiences into music. The piano can sound fragile at one moment and heavy at another. Underlying the tracks, the synths produce a nervous pulse. Her voice ranges from quiet and intimate to sharp, forceful and almost unsettling. All the elements are linked to the emotions contained in the songs. The album opens with the track “Prodrome,” creating an uneasy atmosphere that is subsequently established. It is clear that something is about to happen, although it is not exactly known when it will take place. This sense of uncertainty is one of the key characteristics of the record.
The song ‘Something in the Offing’ achieves that effect by means of a slowly unfolding piano piece and vivid imagery reminiscent of a storm. Cameron speaks of being carried by the waves and of fearing a dance which he already knows. Although the song seems calm at first glance, there is still a sense of tension beneath the surface. This contrast is significant for the album, since even its quietest moments never actually feel safe. The song takes on a totally different tone with the use of ‘lemon squeezer’. The spoken-word sections, the layered vocals and the firm percussion all give it a confrontational atmosphere. Instead of avoiding painful experiences, Cameron meets them head on. The reference to being the ‘comeback lady’ imparts a defiant spirit which is particularly noticeable. “Constant Companion” shifts the emphasis back towards the internal world, whereas “Chocolate Cake” provides another unusual feature to the album. Cameron is not hesitant about having strange or unexpected ideas placed next to more substantial material; this gives the record the feel of an authentic expression of a complex inner life rather than something that has been carefully controlled.
Next is ‘Sympathetic Symphony’, one of the most intense tracks on the album. Cameron has referred to this song, together with ‘Something in the Offing’ and ‘I’m Resting’, as forming a three-song sequence concerning an experience of a POTS episode; the music grows more uncomfortable before finishing with maniacal laughter. It is a disturbing decision, but that is precisely why it is effective; the song doesn’t just depict panic but instead creates an atmosphere in which the listener can experience its unpredictability. It’s another strong instance. The song links Cameron’s own early medical experience with that of Henrietta Lacks. The music has a pulsing sense of urgency and slowly changes from a feeling of pain to one of determination. At the end, Cameron sounds less as if he is waiting for an answer and more as if he is refusing to stay passive. ‘Motherland’ is more subdued yet perhaps just as intense; around Cameron’s voice there are slow piano notes and hazy synth sounds as she looks at the complex emotions she feels towards her mother and the long-term impact of her childhood. The constant refrain of ‘Motherland, Motherwound’ gives the song the atmosphere of a painful memory that keeps coming back. “RIP, OP” continues the album’s engagement with abuse, while “Everyone is Someone’s Collateral Damage” expands the emotional range. There is a sharp truth in that title, and Cameron doesn’t dilute it. “One Blood” then provides a different viewpoint, introducing a feeling of shared humanity to an album which has largely focused on individual suffering. When “FLSD” and “I’m Resting” come along, exhaustion becomes one of the album’s emotional themes. “I’m Resting” is particularly significant since the title itself opposes the expectation of always being in motion. Given the amount of tension that has built up, there is real significance in the idea of just stopping. The album ends with the track ‘The World. Oh No. (Postdrome)’, thus bringing it full circle back to its starting point. This circular format illustrates one of the main ideas of the record: illness and grief do not always follow a straight course, things do return, and a good day can suddenly turn into a bad one with progress appearing at times like a setback.
What gives *The World. Oh No.* its distinctive character is Cameron’s choice for the music to mirror that reality. The Lyra synthesizer produces an uncomfortable electronic pulse, and the piano provides the record with a more vulnerable quality. Additionally, the guitar, the layered vocals, the spoken word and the changing vocal techniques all contribute further texture. Darkness is present, but there is also anger, intelligence, humour and a strong wish to recover a sense of self. Cameron doesn’t attempt to make difficult experiences sound beautiful merely for the sake of doing so; rather, she lets the songs stay uncomfortable whenever it is necessary. The World. Oh No. is basically an album concerned with coping with uncertainty while at the same time managing to find a reason to produce something out of it. It is raw, strange, intimate and often hard to get used to. However, it is this honesty that provides the record with its power. Cameron has turned a very personal experience into fourteen songs which do more than just tell her story; they establish a space in which listeners can hear what uncertainty feels like.
English