Camera Obscura do not lend themselves to simple comparison. Nor is their sound easily describable. The quintet's San Diego origins do little to place them, as well. Over the months I've owned this record, my ears, brain, and handy rock reference tome have sent me on reminiscences far and wide. Yet, none of them have adequately captured, alone or in tandem, quite what needs to be said to the Internet about Camera Obscura. Maybe a partial laundry list of those reminiscences would get all y'all in the right mindset.

Sonic Youth: There it is, the tired, old comparison to the similarly tired and old alterna-Stones. Specifics on this one won't help much, but what the heck? "Cinematheque" dollops out noise-rock in spoonfuls that'd make Julia Child lose her apron. Buried beneath caked-on layers of wall-of-sound, shoegazery guitar ocean, Michelle Maskovich warbles a stoically unintelligible ode to some god of filmic entertainment. Placing Kim Gordon as a vocal landmark here is like pointing out a single fan at a soccer stadium from a passing 747. But, hey, frustration is a part of life.

Clickitat Ikatowi: This reference should make that Kim Gordon one look like a before- and-after Ricki Lake makeover shot. To Change the Shape of an Envelope kicks off with "Trigger System," a track that places Camera Obscura in similar waters as those fellow San Diego-ans. It's a sample-heavy piece that fitfully begins with a minute of bothered fuzz and noises that evolves into a bass-driven, rhythmic beast beset by indecipherable lyrics. The track ends strong, though, as a repetitive and scary synth Halloweens you towards a fizzled coda of screeching. But whereas Clickitat murdered you with bullhorns, dissonant harmonica, and well-bruised percussion instruments, Camera Obscura opt for technological warfare.

The aforementioned allusions pretty much cover "Theory on Sex as an Art Form," except for the fact that this, three tracks in, is where the record hits it stride. Vocals carom from the male questioning-yelp to the female deadpan-response, a Sonic Youth trick made raptly new here. Changes in noise level and lead instruments-- which range from insane carnival synth to classically tinkled piano-- provide this song with a dimension that is sorely lacking on the rest of the record. And an undeniably sweeping set of chords mid-song serve as a vast, gleaming hook amidst the whipped-white river of sound.

This same torrent abrades the majority of To Change the Shape of an Envelope. "Twenty Five Diamonds" tears the bones out of Drive Like Jehu's carcass and dresses them in spiked synth armament. "Sound" administers equal violence to a Rachel's-inspired piano dirge. I imagine a Camera Obscura show might be the ideal place to bring your otolaryngologist when he reprimands you for listening to too much rock music. The constant treble squeal of their vaguely goth underbelly cranked to the PA's redline might last him until his early retirement.

-Judson Picco