Review: The Clientele - Bonfires on the Heath (* * *)

Few bands have managed to create as many accomplished and acclaimed albums with as little reinvention as The Clientele. Since 2000’s compilation Suburban Light (an exquisite collection of the band’s early singles), the London-based quartet have remained remarkably true to their sound, never straying from the hazy, reverb-drenched 60s-esque pop style that has enamored so many, myself included. There have been minor changes to the group’s approach throughout the past ten years, and an in-depth analysis of each album reveals a subtle, methodical evolution (more instruments, higher production values, etc.), but these changes are understated enough as to be easily dismissed or unnoticed on a casual listen. And so the trend continues for The Clientele’s latest and quite possibly last effort, Bonfires on the Heath, another generous serving of smooth, low-key pop that often sounds remarkably like what preceded it, though here (and more than any other time perhaps) the band occasionally attempt a livelier, more energetic sound for their rumored finale. That’s not to say Bonfires on the Heath is likely to surprise anyone, and there’s still plenty (too much, really) of the band’s characteristically down-tempo balladry to be found scattered throughout the 12 tracks, but the album does at times feel more progressively full-bodied and upbeat even than 2007’s God Save The Clientele. (Continue Reading...)

Review: Drug Rug - Paint the Fence Invisible (* * * 1/2)

The path of indie retro-rock has been well traveled recently by the likes of Cold War Kids, Dr. Dog, Delta Spirit and plenty of others, but though the genre can occasionally feel tired, there's enough fresh material being produced that I, for one, still don't mind hearing more. Tommy Allen and Sarah Cronin, recording and performing as Drug Rug, are the latest to catch my attention with their recently-released sophomore effort, Paint the Fence Invisible. The album is a brief and mostly effective blast of psych-infused pop music hearkening primarily back to the late 60s, though the songs feel modern enough to make the duo seem like more than just a pair of rip-offs. Looking back at their self-titled debut, it's obvious that the basic formula hasn't changed much for the band's latest outing, but the new record is more consistent, tuneful, and features slightly smoother production, all of which add to the quality of experience.

Near the beginning of the album, Drug Rug reveal their best work; both the driving "Haunting You" and the groovy, shimmering "Never Tell," showcase the group's appeal, with constant boy/girl harmonies and appropriately simple instrumentals including guitar, drums, and keys. The formula isn't unique but the band successfully employ it to create songs that are expressive, fun, and just hard to resist. Though the music often follows the upbeat standard set early in the proceedings, the band take the occasional stylistic detour that livens things up, though sometimes at the expense of the record's consistency. The rough squall of "Hannah Please" and the gently groovy "Sooner the Better" are among those tunes that add some welcome variation to the album, while the lengthier, denser psych-pop tune "Noah Rules" and the uneven rocker "Passes On" feel more like missteps, but the overall approach works better than it did on the group's less focused debut.

Mostly, Paint the Fence Invisible is an enjoyable summertime album that aims to please and hits the target more often than not. Drug Rug are talented musicians that know their way around a hook which keep the record interesting, and they're smart enough to know not to overstay their welcome, holding the record to a brief 31 minutes. In the future, the duo will certainly have to diversify their sound to stay relevant and fresh, but for now their light, breezy version of retro-rock is a more than welcome addition to the genre.

Review: Camera Obscura - My Maudlin Career (* * * 1/2)

Starting when I was about about eight or nine years old, my love of music was directed with fervor at our local oldies station, playing the best of all those feel-good, sugar-coated songs that I played repeatedly to the point of my parent’s exhaustion. Though I’ve come a long way since then, I’ve never really gotten over my love of pop music’s simple pleasures. As a result, it’s almost impossible for me to dislike throwback albums like My Maudlin Career, the fourth effort from one of Glasgow’s most beloved indie rock bands, Camera Obscura. Though the album is somewhat inconsistent, the infectious mix of jangly guitars, ornamental string arrangements, and sappy lyrics channel the feeling of classic 50’s pop and make for some genuinely charming and pleasant moments.

At their most inspired on My Maudlin Career, Camera Obscura remain as quirky and compelling as they’ve always been. First single and opener “French Navy” bursts from the speakers with a delightfully sunny drum stomp before transitioning into a smooth, jazzy Indie tune. Following is the similarly excellent “The Sweetest Thing,” complete with a fantastic Beach Boys-esque vocal intro and joyous strings for the perfect touch. Both songs are packed with hooks and are so much fun you can forgive lyrics like the regrettably cheesy “You make me go ooh-ooh with the things that you do,” though later on the record, similar lines start to grate a bit. There are several other highlights scattered throughout the disc, but perhaps the best track on the record appears right at the end. The energetic, horny-heavy “Honey in the Sun” kicks things back into high gear for a final blast of lovely pop goodness that might make you wonder if Camera Obscura decided to literally save the best for last.

Between the strong start and finish, however, the results are less even. “James” is enjoyably lonely and “Forest and Sands” adds a nice bit of twang to shake things up slightly, but many of the songs can’t fulfill the promise of the first couple tracks. “Away with Murder” takes the generally sad lyrics into uncomfortably depressing territory, while “Careless Love” slows the tempo into an unnecessarily drippy ballad devoid of any real energy or emotion. The production continues to be exceptional and the band sharp with their delivery, but Campbell’s songwriting becomes distracting after more than a few listens. You might wish she’d stop simply hoping to be happy as she sings “I don’t want to be sad again” and just lighten up a bit, as too often her heavy dose of despair wrapped in sunny melodies feels heavy and tired when the arrangements could be used more often to express a less bleak sentiment.

Still, it’s difficult to deny the expertise with which Camera Obscura navigate their way through familiar pop territory while providing a welcome update on the classic genre. The occasionally overstuffed presentation is consistently fun and when the mood is less mopey, Campbell creates some exceptional tunes. My Maudlin Career doesn’t hit the spot like Let’s Get Out of This Country, but while the new record isn’t a complete success, it certainly can’t be considered a failure either.

Last Word: My Maudlin Career contains a few of Camera Obscura’s best tunes but is ultimately hampered by too much uninspired and dreary songwriting.