Clinic - Bubblegum
- Written by Robert Freeman
Whereas difficulty bracketing Clinic in the past has always been a plus (demonstrated by the eclectic mix of genres and adjectives they’ve collected over the course of their ten-year career), in the case of Bubblegum it’s tough to even bracket them as ‘Clinic’ anymore. Their ‘doo-wop voodoo surf-bop mutant stomp’ has been replaced with a kind of oneiric jumble of dulcimers and strings (‘watery pop-psych’ apparently). And wah-wah pedals. For god’s sake – wah wah pedals. Acoustic guitars aren’t really what you’re after with Clinic, and unfortunately, as they’re still fronted by Ade Blackburn, it sounds like a paedophile covering Lemon Jelly songs. At least they aren’t dogged by lazy journalistic clichés though (instead dogged by reviewers making up genres - a very enjoyable pastime fyi).
The ‘bubblegum’ pop-hatcheting though means the loss of some of the brevity and the urgency of previous releases (and obviously this isn’t pop, even though it’s more of a friendly sound than the abrasiveness of previous records). Post-punk in form if not always in content, although the band still retains much of their characteristic strangeness, one could suggest that vocals from Ade Blackburn would produce an air of strangeness if he told you the time. It’s not hard to sound strange when you’ve got a blocked nose and a child’s voice. There’s still the occasional ‘stomp’ though, and some nice discord on ‘Lion Tamer’. Album closer ‘Orangutan’ has the kind of musical gasping one expects from a band that wrote ‘Walking with Thee’ (although there’s still a bloody wah-wah pedal on it) but the focus is now more on silence and calm rather than noise.
A departure from previous albums is obviously not a bad thing. Clinic fans, one assumes, don’t want to be ‘pleased’ at a new release, they want to be interested (cf. nightmarish press photos over the years, always in surgical masks). Giving this album the attention it demands, one can see that it’s still a ‘Clinic’ record, albeit a bit more relaxed. ‘No limitations’ is the refrain on the title track, and limitations would include those imposed by reviewers who would be happy for them to play ‘Return of Evil Bill’ over and over again.
Despite (rather oddly) being Grammy-nominated and appearing on David Letterman, Clinic remain a remarkable band, and they certainly aren’t interested in pandering to the likes of you. Go and see them live – if you’re missing the sense of urgency try being confronted with four men in surgical masks asking you to come into their rooms. There’s a lot of agitated guitar / organ work and instrument swapping. Be careful though – this isn’t Mumford and Sons – you might be scared, and they’ll probably be waiting for you in an alley after the show.