The Clientele Albums (4)
What The Critics Say
The Clientele have always been autumnal and very English, and on their fourth album, Bonfires on the Heath, they may have created the most perfect, autumnal, English pop record imaginable. From beginning to end there is a crisp breeze that smells strongly of burning leaves and the fading memories of the revelry of the summer just passed, a feeling of melancholy and quiet but also a pastoral peacefulness that is very soothing. It's something the band has always been able to conjure up with just a few notes from Alasdair MacLean's guitar or just a few lines of his richly warm vocals, but here they seem to be at the very peak of their powers as a band. Perhaps it's the full integration of newest member, Mel Draisey, and her lovely backing vocals and multi-instrumental skills, maybe it's the incredibly precise and chamber-pop-perfect arrangements, or maybe it's just that the group has written its most cohesive batch of songs yet. Of course previous albums have had their share of great songs ("I Can't Seem to Make You Mine" from Strange Geometry, and "Bookshop Casanova" from God Save the Clientele), but this time out the balance of uptempo tracks (something they've continued to add to their repertoire with much success) like "I Wonder Who We Are" and "Share the Night," hazy midtempo strollers like "Never Anyone But You," and hushed ballads like the breathtaking title track, work like a magic spell, and the whole album rushes by dreamily like autumn itself. Unlike the season, which inevitable turns to the bitterness of winter, Bonfires on the Heath can be endlessly replayed. The warmth it conveys is immense, and along with the happiness it provides, the album also shows that the Clientele continue to be one of the best pop bands around in the 2000s. ~ Tim Sendra, All Music Guide
'God Save the Clientele'
Release Date 1/1/2007
Tracks 14
Label Track & Field
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
The Clientele's third full-length LP finds the band riding the wave of beauty and inspiration that made Strange Geometry one of the most impressive records of 2005. As is their style, the group has made no radical changes to their sound or approach; Alasdair MacLean still sings in a heartbreakingly honest and sweet voice, the band is as restrained and thoughtful as ever, the strings that dot the songs like floating tufts of cotton candy are again arranged by Louis Philippe, and the songs are predictably haunting and heartwarming. Even the changes the group made haven't really changed anything. God Save the Clientele was recorded in Nashville with Lambchop's Mark Nevers at the helm, and with help from Autumn Defense member Pat Sansone, one might expect a more Americanized sound, but with the exception of a pedal steel here and there, the band still magically conjures up autumn walks through rainy London back streets or, even better, languid late summer days spent drifting through the English countryside. Nevers does get a slightly cleaner sound, cutting the reverb down noticeably, but without any ill effects. The addition of Mel Draisey on keyboards, violin, and backing vocals hasn't changed much for the group either, as she's only on about half the tracks and her contributions are pleasingly subtle. Apart from the talk of changes or lack thereof, what you get with God Save the Clientele is a stunning batch of songs that will break your heart, pump it back full of life, and send you off to dreamland with a warm feeling filling your soul. From bouncy summery tunes like "Here Comes the Phantom," which opens the album with a burst of joy, to sleepy ballads (the George Harrison-esque "Isn't Life Strange") and trademark midtempo charmers like "From Brighton Beach to Santa Monica," the band has never been as consistently wonderful as on this album. They also carry over the strong sense of dynamics from Strange Geometry and make sure to balance moods and tempos throughout the album; for every languid ballad like "The Queen of Seville" or the achingly beautiful "No Dreams Last Night," there's an uptempo track like "The Garden at Night" (a wild rocker that sounds like the soundtrack to a scene in a '60s film where the straight-laced couple wanders into a hip nightclub by mistake and is accosted by swirling music and a trippy light show) or the more sedate but still rocking "Bookshop Casanova" to match. Every song on the album is near perfect and would sound just right on a mix CD designed to win a heart, cheer up a friend, or simply make you glad to be alive. God Save the Clientele is another stroke of magic from a band that has few peers in delivering music that can make or break your heart with a vocal inflection, swath of strings, or gentle arpeggio, music that can devastate you in one breath and lift you to the heavens with the next. The Clientele are that good and this album ranks with their finest moments. ~ Tim Sendra, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Rebounding after the ever-so-slightly samey feel of The Violet Hour, Strange Geometry reinvigorates the Clientele's literate, wistful indie pop with fresh doses of emotion, invention, and wit. As the Arthur Machen quote in the album's liner notes suggests, Strange Geometry is as much about London as it is about introspection and lost love: virtually every song on the album makes characters out of the tenement lines, gardens, trees, streets, and buildings that make up the city. In fact, these songs are so thematically tight that they resemble a collection of poems and short stories set to music, particularly on the largely spoken word "Losing Haringey," a breakup note to London with wonderfully evocative lyrics like "I was in an underexposed photo of 1982." All kinds of clever and experimental details decorate Strange Geometry, from the distant, operatic vocals that introduce "K" to the guitar melody that quotes the Crystals' "Then He Kissed Me" on "Since K Got Over Me." Fortunately, though, these extra bursts of creativity don't distract from the essential beauty of these songs. On both livelier tracks like "My Own Face Inside the Trees" and "E.M.P.T.Y." (which boasts bubblegum-psych string flourishes and fuzzy guitars) and immaculately groomed ballads like the soft, sweet sadness of "(I Can't Seem To) Make You Mine" and "Step into the Light," the Clientele have rarely sounded better. Despite a few sleepy moments on the album's second half, Strange Geometry has more flair and movement than Violet Hour, and perfects the band's ability to be uplifting and heartbreaking at the same time. ~ Heather Phares, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
In some ways, it's hard to believe that The Violet Hour is the Clientele's first proper full-length album. The band has released so many lovely singles and EPs in the five years prior to this album that it seems like a full-length release must have come out a few years ago (2001's singles collection Suburban Light doesn't count). The wait was well worth it, though; The Violet Hour not only perfects the gorgeously hazy pop of their previous releases, it also adds a guileless freshness to it that is completely apt for their debut album. As with most of their other work, in The Violet Hour's world it's always summer, and usually sunset; instantly nostalgic, poignant tunes such as "Voices in the Mall" and "Everybody's Gone" capture the dusky side of summer perfectly. Indeed, most of the album reflects -- and radiates -- warmth, from its generally languid mood to the way its songs blend into each other like slow-flowing honey. Alasdair MacLean's whispery vocals are drenched in faraway reverb, and, along with the band's sleepy guitars and understated drums, creates such an exquisite ambience that the album's unhurried tempos and melodies never sound boring. While "The Violet Hour" and "House on Fire" breeze along on slightly livelier tempos, and "The House Always Wins" ignites into the Clientele's version of rock, none of these songs break the spell that is cast by "When You and I Were Young," "Lamplight," and "Haunted Melody"; and that spell is deepened by the chiming bells that punctuate the album. With so much going on musically, The Violet Hour doesn't even need meaningful lyrics, but it delivers those too, especially on "Missing," where MacLean sighs, "I've got so much longing in my heart that I can't even sleep" with such sweetly quiet resignation that it's breathtaking, once you hear it. It's true that the Clientele's influences still shine through in their music, yet the band doesn't sound derivative; by not trying to overtly rework their sound or hide their roots, they allow themselves -- and their listeners -- to just revel in the beauty of their music. So, while The Violet Hour doesn't offer anything different from the Clientele's previous work, it does offer more of it, and that is a wonderful thing. ~ Heather Phares, All Music Guide
