‘You rely on someone else to make you feel alright. As far as I’m concerned that’s no kind of life.’
If ever there was such a thing as an awkward silence following a lyric on a record then I lay claim to experiencing one of the most awkward, embarrassing, shuffling, shoegazing silences on record. For a man who has relied consecutively on the the vocal and nascent indie habits of Blur’s Damon Albarn and a whole list of other A-List indie characters, Jason Pegg’s fuzzy, propelling mantra on throbbing album opener, ‘No Kind Of Life’ is one of those statements you inevitably end up regretting, as pretty as it is. And yet for every reservation I have about Pegg’s plundering of the archives, there’s an element of satisfaction to balance it out. So it sounds like Blur, so what? Oasis sounded like the Beatles and they made a blistering debut album. The problem lies in what else Clearlake are willing to throw into the broth and its clearly heaps of other bloody stuff too.
Clearlake are so entrenched in a musical heritage already perfected by the likes of The Smiths, The Stone Roses, Blur, Pulp, Radiohead, Syd Barrett and My Bloody Valentine that they risk squandering their considerable joint talents on churning out credible takes on a preponderance of indie icons. And whilst this time the end result is harder, grittier, nastier and more urgent than ever before, this time the Brighton rockers bring us bang up to date with what else has been pumping on their stereo with dashes of Doves (‘No Kind Of Life’), Elbow (‘Amber’), The Vines (‘Finally Free’), Depeche Mode (‘Neon’, ‘Here To Learn’), QOTSA and The Strokes (‘I Hate That I Got What I Wanted’). Yes it’s tight, yes, it’s flawless, yes it’s spectacularly enjoyable in an affectionate ‘Stars In Their Eyes’ kind of way, but just like ‘Cedars’ (2003) and ‘Lido’ (2001) before it, ‘Amber’ struggles to raise itself above the collective weight of its influences. Contrary to Pegg’s ambitious opening statement, Clearlake ‘rely on someone else’ to make them sound alright. And this is a shame as tracks like recent single, ‘Good Clean Fun’, ‘Dreamt That You’d Died’, ‘Widescreen’ and the thumping baroque class of the delightful, ‘It’s Getting Light Outside’ prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Clearlake, and Jason Pegg’s bleak peculiarities in particular, are twisted, boisterous and far reaching enough without the usual cabaret of influences. And if you should be in any doubt just listen to the fretful hypnotics of ‘You Can’t Have Me’ and the swelling cello subtleties and web-like devices of the beautiful ‘Amber’.
Strong and adventurous but still not adventurous enough. Tonight Matthew, I’m going to err on the side of caution and say greatness very nearly was theirs. But not quite.