Carey Lander remembered by Tracyanne Campbell | Indie

Posted by Jenniffer Sheldon on Sunday, June 30, 2024
The Observer's obituaries of 2015IndieObituary

Carey Lander remembered by Tracyanne Campbell

1 March 1982 - 11 October 2015
Camera Obscura’s singer recalls the bravery, selflessness and humour of her bandmate and friend, who died of osteosarcoma this year at the age of 33

Read the Observer’s obituaries of 2015 in full here
Steve Strange remembered by Martin Kemp

I first met Carey in 2001. She’d moved to Glasgow for a year out before university, became friends with Gavin, our bass player, and ended up being in the video for our first single, Eighties Fan. I knew she was a fan of Belle and Sebastian – there was a fan messageboard on the internet, Sinister, through which she had made friends. We were looking to get a new keyboardist and she said she played piano. To be honest, I was dubious, but we gave her a go.

As well as lowering the average age of the band and raising the IQ, Carey ended up bringing everything to the band. She had proper musical training for starters, which none of us had. She also became one of my best friends. She brought me the reason to do it. She was my right-hand man, really, empowering me and encouraging me when I wasn’t feeling positive.

She was the right kind of quiet – she could steer the band with her silence

After our next album [2003’s Underachievers, Please Try Harder] we got really busy, touring all over the world. I hadn’t thought about that period again until relatively recently. You don’t always see the people you’re with, do you? You change as you grow together. But Carey was always immaculately colourful in both humour and appearance, always sarcastic and funny, but also thoughtful, dignified, discreet and wise. All the best things. More than anything, she loved books – Carson McCullers, Sylvia Plath and Patrick Hamilton, Paul Auster – and also 50s and 60s vintage style, winter clothes, red roses, falling snow.

People often thought that Carey was quite shy and unfriendly, but she wasn’t, really. She was the right kind of quiet. She could steer the band with her silence. In rehearsal, if she didn’t like something, the lack of sound from behind the keyboard spoke volumes. I remember her not being happy particularly when we made [2009’s] My Maudlin Career, when she felt the producer was just sprinkling her piano over the record. At the beginning of the track James, you can hear how she felt – there’s this big, crashing piano note, which is Carey actually kicking the piano. She was proactively moody!

She never complained, though, not even when she knew she was dying. Not once. I don’t know how anyone could do that, when you’re at the top of your game, with everything to live for in terms of your potential.

On our last album, [2013’s] Desire Lines, she was the star of the show, and I’m not just saying that because she’s not here. She’d been such a force, as she’d been diagnosed [with osteosarcoma, a rare form of bone cancer] and got ill while we were starting to make it. I wasn’t in a good place, writing it – I found it very hard to prioritise music when she was so sick. But she told us we had to write songs and that we had to make this record. She did it, we got there and then she joined us. She was hungry for it.

Watch Camera Obscura play a session of songs from their most recent album, Desire Lines.

I was with Carey when she found out that the cancer had returned this summer. We had been on holiday together with my partner and son. It was quick, far too quick. But as soon as she knew she was dying, she started thinking of what to do for everyone else.

She set about raising money for Sarcoma UK to help other people with bone cancer, especially the children who get it, which I found incredible. She also went through her things and put aside boxes for the people close to her. In mine, there were letters, photos, a very early flyer for the band and all of her Chanel products – she told me not to keep them, but use them up. She even bought us a painting each. I couldn’t believe it when I opened mine. To think of something like that when you’ve not got long at all to live.

I’m so proud that Carey has been part of my life, my weeks, my family’s day-to-day existence. I still can’t walk down the street without seeing her. She’s just going to have to live among us.

You can donate to Lander’s Sarcoma UK fund at justgiving.com/carey-lander. Lander’s initial target was £10,000; the total now stands at £83,000, with a new target set by Lander’s family of £100,000

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