(Vinyl Love is a series of posts that quite simply lists, describes, and displays the pieces in my growing vinyl collection. You can bet that each record was given a spin during the drafting of each corresponding post.)
Artist: The Clientele Album Title: God save The Clientele Year released: 2007 Year reissued: 2017 Details: 10th anniversary reissue
The skinny: I got myself on a Clientele kick last month when the London-based dream pop band finally reissued their standout sophomore album, “The violet hour“, on vinyl, allowing me to complete my collection (for now) of their LPs for my record shelves. Of course, that set me off on a Clientele bender, which in my mind is never a bad bender. I got away from spinning their records for a couple weeks but now I’m back at it with their fourth record* and my third favourite album of 2007, “God save The Clientele“. It was their first album with the addition of violinist Mel Draisey, which added a whole other element to their already heavenly psych pop, and saw them oddly more upbeat than on previous outings. This record was added to my collection in 2017 when Merge reissued the album in celebration of its 10th anniversary, original album art intact but with the addition of a silver title enhancement.
Standout track: “Bookshop casanova”
*I’ll be taking a break from these while I work at finishing up the countdown of my favourite albums of the year but I looking forward to spinning the rest of The Clientele’s albums early in the new year.
Here we are sliding into my top five favourite albums of the year and it’s a band that is no stranger at all to these pages. Indeed, they last appeared care of a post back in September on a song for my best tunes of 2013 list, a track called “It starts and ends with you” from the first of what is now a litany of five great reunion albums. I wrote then that despite being a fan of pretty much everything coming out of Britain in the 90s, I didn’t start out being a fan of Suede. Of course, that’s all ancient history and I’ve been following the Brett Anderson led five-piece through all their ups and downs: the early popularity, the loss of their original guitarist, the even greater fame with the Britpop explosion, the drugs and the trials and eventual dissolution of band, and through to their triumphant return and beyond.
The fifteen years since that successful reunion back in 2010 has seen the group release as many albums as they had during their initial run and though perhaps not as commercially successful, these last five have all been critically lauded. Instead of being rehashes of old glories or vanity projects to accompany reunion tours to play old hits, as have done many of their contemporaries, Suede have built on their sound and their legacy with this new music, retaining the energy and excitement they exuded in their early years.
“Antidepressants” is purportedly the second of what is planned to be a trilogy of albums that are thematically and aesthetically “black and white”. The first album of said series, “Autofiction“, was incidentally my fifth favourite album of 2022 and was what frontman Brett Anderson called the group’s “punk album”. Its followup was meant to be bigger and more dramatic, the opposite of “Autofiction”’s stripped back lightning energy, and instead, the direction became slightly more inevitable, angular and dark. Yes, this is their take on post-punk and goth. And man, does this outfit suit Suede like a slinky glove.
“Antidepressants” is eleven excellent and replayable tracks that sparkle when taken out of context but explode as part of the whole. You can’t go wrong having a peek at any of tracks as samples but I’ve nonetheless collected three picks for you below.
“Trance state“: “If I’m unsociable, it’s fine. I’ll blame it on the Mirtazapine. I hope I’m going somewhere nice.” The first of these picks explicitly names one of those antidepressants to which the album title refers. The drug is named as a barrier between people but really it’s just an excuse, a surrogate for a deeper set issue. This theme of connection and disconnection is constant throughout the album but here is prominently flaunted like a new tattoo or a rebellious piercing. The haziness of the guitars and synths are set against a punishing drum line and a muscular, Peter Hook like bass. And Anderson is doing his best to be an objective narrator but he gets caught up in the emotional void in spite of himself.
“Broken music for broken people”: “And under endless skies we fell in love and then we died but when the lights went out, we believed in something rather than nothing.” Members of Suede have referred to the album as a “wide-screen” record and nowhere are those words truer than here. “Broken music” is the closest thing to a classic Suede song as this album gets but it is bigger and more epic, every rimshot, every guitar lick, every hip shake dialled up to eleven. It is an anthem, a call to arms, celebrating the broken people, rather than looking down on them. And it’s not singling anyone out. We are all broken people in our own sense, with our own histories, but we are shined on in a positive light. We are all in this together.
“Disintegrate”: “My baby, feel the rage. Your relationship’s a lie, and the friction makes you scream, but you hold your love like a weapon in your hand.” Track one, the introduction, the tip of the hat, is where the goth influence feels most evident. From the sinister Sisters of Mercy guitars to the haunting Joy Division bass drums and guitars to the playful nod to The Cure’s iconic album for its title, you could be forgiven for double checking the artist name on your music player of choice before Brett Anderson’s unmistakable vocals kick in. “Disintegrate” is deniable. It is punishing. It is fists in the air. It is wearing sunglasses at midnight and dancing in the wee hours like there’s no work in the morning. Such a great tune.
We’ll be back in about a week’s time with album #4. In the meantime, here are the previous albums in this list:
True story: Back in 2006 or 2007, when this newfangled thing called the Facebook was still a relatively new concern*, I joined a Facebook group called “Shoegaze” and promptly forgot all about it.
And then at some point early in 2013, I started receiving a barrage of updates in my “News Feed” from this very group, which both surprised and delighted me. One such post was a photo of two new records, purchased in Waco, Texas, of all places, by two (at the time) recent shoegaze/dream pop bands that I had never heard of. They were No Joy and Still Corners.
Curiousity piqued, I immediately tracked down both of the albums with more than satisfactory results. Regarding Still Corners**, their sophomore album, “Strange pleasures”, was very much on the Beach House, Mazzy Star, and Cocteau Twins side of the dream pop spectrum. But where Beach House sounded at the time really like the work of the duo they were, Still Corner’s sound felt more developed and lusher.
Formed after a chance meeting between American expat musician Greg Hughes and English singer Tessa Murray back in 2008, Still Corners was signed by legendary indie label Sub Pop in 2011, on which they released their first two records. Where their retro and dreamy dream pop debut, “Strange pleasures”, wore their influences on its proverbial sleeves, the sophomore release, written directly after finishing the first, departed slightly, but only slightly, introducing synths and plenty of reverb the guitars for a more expansive sound. And though I’ve loved the four more albums they’ve released since, all on their own label Wrecking Light, my preference is for that particular time and place.
“We came from far
We follow the sun
We fell into a hole of love, yeah”
Halfway through the track list of “Strange pleasures” sits this sub three minute love song, “Berlin lovers”, the second single to be released from the album. It’s one of the more upbeat tracks in the bunch. Synth heavy, bouncing and jagged, skipping to the loo with the drum beat, all floating aloft airy wafts of washes and Tessa Murray repeating “so young, so young, so young”, over and over, in a voice that calls to mind an early Stars era Amy Millan. It’s the stuff of strobes and smoke machines and psychedelics – or just plain being in love.
*For me anyways. I know it was created much earlier but I’m not always up on all tech things.
**No Joy’s “Wait to pleasure” also started a different love affair that continues today… but that’s another story. 😉
For the rest of the Best tunes of 2013 list, click here.
My (life in) music lists 