Send "The Clientele " Ringtones to your Cell 
| Pitchfork |
 All of the Clientele's records have been of a piece since at least 2003's The Violet Hour, when the Brit band began to move away from the vocal-smearing reverb and budget-conscious production values of their early singles in search of something brighter, more classically pop. On 2005's Strange Geometry, they shifted focus for real, looking to the rich analog sound of the 1960s rather than the scrappy 1980s indie pop that reared them (which was of course already pretty 60s-indebted).The Clientele are too idiosyncratic to be a straight retro act-- one listen to Alasdair MacLean's sighing delivery and you know he's not out to imitate Lennon, McCartney, anyone-- but that same strong stamp of personality means it's hard to say anything new about the band. So yes, on Minotaur they continue draw deeply from 60s soft-pop; if you've enjoyed the Clientele's last few albums, you're guaranteed to enjoy at least 6/8ths of this mini LP. It's the same gorgeous, heartsick-sounding, consciously nostalgic, folk-ish rock you can imagine jangling from some shy bookworm's transistor radio in the brief period between Rubber Soul and the Summer of Love. On the plus side, the band has ditched the ersatz Brit Invasion touches that marred 2009's Bonfires on the Heath. The Clientele, despite their unfair reputation as a one-trick band, can do many things well, but they just sound off when they go up-tempo....full text |
| Blogcritics |
| The Clientele continue their quiet drive of mining the prettier side of Brit-pop. Their sound looks farther backwards than most, finding inspiration more with groups from the sixties — where flower power and folk music still fused with the greater rock landscape — than with the more effects-laden scenes that came after. They have a far gentler sound, offering beautiful summer gems for slightly mopey hipsters. Although you can still count their proper albums on one hand, they consistently supplement them with EP-length releases that offer the excuse to experiment with ideas that might not otherwise fit the mood established on a full-length album. Their latest, Minotaur, is somewhere in the middle. Dubbed a “mini album,” that’s actually a rather accurate description. Most of the tracks are destination material with only slight indulgences; it just happens to be kept on the short side for a more traditional album. The title track starts things off and feels like one of their more polished pop gems. The minimal, arpeggiated guitar accompaniment gets bolstered by strings and a hint of extra excitement from the rhythm section. It still captures the group’s trademark dreaminess, but offers something beyond just “that sound.”...full text |
| Limewire |
| When British psych-pop revivalists The Clientele’s last album, 2009’s Bonfires on the Heath, was released, singer/guitarist Alasdair MacLean made some unsettling statements in the press to the effect that it might conceivably be the band’s swan song. A little less than a year later, the arrival of the eight-song EP Minotaur accompanies a collective exhalation of relief on the part of Clientele fans, thankful that their beloved U.K. moodmeisters are in fact still carrying on. The Clientele has a history of releasing EPs that are much more than mere stopgaps between full-length albums, and Minotaur is no exception. The fragile, Nick Drake-meets-Felt feel of the band’s best tunes is still strongly in evidence here, with MacLean’s breathy, reverb-soaked voice delivering mysterious, evocative lyrics while gentle, atmospheric layers of guitar, keyboards, and violin create a misty, crepuscular sonic shroud that gives each track a haunting quality. MacLean’s melodic knack remains unerring, giving each song easy access to the inside of the listener’s head, the better to impart his inscrutable observations. Exceptions: piano nocturne “No. 33” and spoken-word piece “The Green Man,” both of which will surely find their own pathways into your consciousness....full text |
The Clientele lyrics
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