album // Client
Not since the first, and sadly only, Peach album appeared on Mute has a new electronic act filled me with such an intense anticipation. The first signing to Depeche Mode mainstay Andy Fletcher's Toast Hawaii subsidiary, the mysterious Client are a female duo - Client A and Client B - who keep their true identities well-hidden. With a little investigation, it turns out that the duo consists of ex-Dubstar singer Sarah Blackwood and Kate Holmes, the wife of Creation Records guru Alan McGee, so both have a better understanding of the music business than most new acts. With a strong presence on the burgeoning live electroclash scene in the UK, Client's well-anticipated first album is a rich blend of gritty, danceable grooves and a roboticism that Kraftwerk would find to their taste.
The involvement of Mute stalwart Gareth Jones, and rising production protege Sie Medway-Smith, ensures that this release perfectly complements the Mute canon. Daniel Miller originally signed Depeche Mode as the perfect electronic pop act; Andy Fletcher has in turn done for the modern age what Miller did for the eighties. The northern female accents are a clear link back to golden Dare-era Human League, but twisted round in a filthy, arch-eyebrowed style as the best electroclash music should be. This is slinky, erotic and sexual music - perhaps less pronounced than Peaches (isn't it sometimes what's hinted at provocatively rather than what's put on show that's more exciting?), but delivered in such a way as to be totally subversive. I've always held the view that the synth is an instrument capable of providing sexual colour to tracks, which is why early DM and Soft Cell tracks were so cultish and dangerous. As Client prove here, the granular / grainy qualities of the synth are every bit as raunchy as the low-slung bass or the phallic electric guitar.
That said, despite electrogirl-punk tendencies ('I'm happy/She's happy/So why the f&#k are you not happy' they sing on 'Happy'), the sexual modus operandi of the opener 'Client' or the open memories on 'Diary Of An 18 Year Old Boy'), Client can still manage to build emotional depth into their music. Take 'Diary...' as an example, where having scurried edgily through token spoken word relationship issues, the key changes to become almost euphoric, with the lyric 'Do I scare you? / Can I guide you?' delivered in such a tender, butter-wouldn't-melt fashion that would make the average man go weak at the knees. It is typical of what we have come to expect from Mute to find soul within machinery, a quality which Client readily build into tracks such as the initially harsh instrumental tones of 'Civilian'. Client are also wonderfully adept at producing highly-glossed electropop tracks, as displayed on the trio of excellent singles (the debut 'Here And Now', 'Rock And Roll Machine' and 'Price Of Love') with their harmonies and deep melodies, thankfully containing just enough grit to stop them becoming too commercial and chart-friendly.
When Kraftwerk and their earlier contemporaries imagined this modern age in which we reside, this must surely have been how they visualised our listening habits within the wired / wireless electro age, not retro comedy rock like The Darkness. This is the sound of the then, the now and the tomorrow : we should all be Clients.
single // Here And Now
'Here And Now' is a smart hard electropop track with a gorgeous array of sounds - synth pianos, an omnipresent bassline and all manner of synth squeals and tones, as well as an occasional burst of heavily distorted guitar from Scott Fairbrother. Sarah Blackwood (Client B) delivers one of the best, most accessible vocals on the album's stand-out track, a surprisingly searching, heartfelt performance given her penchant for confrontational lyrics : 'What brought us to this? What brought us to life?' she sings on the chorus.
In contrast, the CD single's first B-side, 'Military Sex' is a hard-edged updated take on early Depeche Mode proving that Andy Fletcher's tutelage has not been in vain. With the exception of some additional guitar, and a distorted 'F**k you!', this could be a faster-paced instrumental take on Speak & Spell's 'Boys Say Go', all buzzing noises, solid syn-drumming and simple one-finger melodies. 'Can't See Me Now' switches the mood again, a light and angular electro track at ballad pace, with only a spiky, distorted melody preventing this from being a wholly beautiful synth pop track; with a sorrowful vocal and layers of icy synth strings, it is, however, mournful and moving in its own way.
There are two remixes of 'Here And Now' on the CD, by Cicada and Moonbootika. Both are really high quality, but for me Cicada's uptempo crisp techno vibe and shimmering melody wins hands down; it even manages to make the rather depressing chorus sound uplifting. The second mix strips the track right back and adds a clockwork electro groove and some engaging noises, but for me it seems to run out of ideas just when it's getting started.