This is the third, and last, of a trilogy of EPs the Clientele have recorded for Acuarela. They have always used the Acuarela EPs as a way to stretch out between albums, to create a through-the-looking-glass version of the band that shadows the better-known history of their albums. 'Ariadne' experimented with drones and minimalism, 'The Lost Weekend' stretched the foggy sound of their debut to epic proportions. In contrast ‘That Night, a Forest Grew' is the most commercial and –shockingly- danceable thing they've ever recorded. Part Bacharach, part Television, part Orange Juice, the EP shares the pristine clarity, light and shade of 'God Save the Clientele',but adds a new element of summer pop perfection. This is The Clientele as a hazily remembered 1970s cartoon series, all distanced off-key colours; imaginary summer hits, radio waves beamed in from a dream-discotheque.
The Clientele are a four piece who formed in Hampshire in 1997, with a sound combining the melody of 60s pop-psych heroes The Monkees, Love and The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band and the later, magical strangeness of Felt, Television and Galaxie 500. They immediately set about releasing 7-inch singles through different labels in the UK, Spain, Japan and USA, compiling these to produce the cinematic, soft-focus beauty of their debut album ‘Suburban Light’, released in 2000. The NME was quick to say that "those who like their art-pop espresso laced with gentle Surrealism will swoon to the sounds of the Clientele". But who cares what the NME thinks? This release saw them sign a deal with Merge Records in the USA, where they quickly gained a cult following.
The follow up, ‘The Violet Hour’ was released two years later to rave reviews, described by Uncut Magazine as "one of the most magical pop albums of 2003". But the latest album ‘Strange Geometry’ was their breakthrough in the USA and Europe, produced by Brian O'Shaugh....... more
Trzecia EPka z acuarelowej trylogii wypełnia jak pozostałe czas i przestrzeń pomiędzy albumami i pozwala przyjrzeć się przez szkiełko na inną twarz wyspiarskiego zespołu The Clientele. Muzycy eksperymentowali z dźwiękami dronów, minimalem, tonęli w mglistych, mrocznych zakamarkach by jak na niniejszej EPce znienacka buchnąć quasi komercyjnym, gitarowym psycho-popem.