Your reviewer has yet to unearth the mystical significance of Winchester Cathedral on Merseyside, but clearly its' pull is strong. In the early 90s, brilliant, but oft-overlooked Scouse weirdos Barbel used to cover the New Vaudeville Band's "Winchester Cathedral", and now Ade Blackburn's masked men have named their new album after the imposing, 7th Century Romanesque pile. What gives?
Maybe it's a ley line thing, because certainly these days CLINIC play with an almost supernatural empathy and - with their excellent recent single "The Magician" suggesting something pretty wicked was coming this way - their long-awaited new album is a hypnotically satisfying blast.
Immediately, you know you're onto something good with "Country Mile." It kicks off with disconcerting 'radio pips'-style electronica and settles into a fractious, nagging groove with Augustus Pablo-style melodica weaving malevolently in and out of the plot and Blackburn intoning maniacally.
Fine start, and much of what follows enthralls, too. "Circle Of Fifths" is built around a manic piano motif, with (I think) a clarinet floating around and a surprise fuzzboxed guitar break recalling "Nuggets"-era heroes like The Third Bardo. As ever with Clinic, it sounds deep, hypnotic and enigmatic, as do the likes of "Anne"s spooked, mantra-pop and the strange, post-midnight stroll of "Falstaff" which initially sounds like it could be a ballad but develops into something too damn weird for words. In a good way, natch.
Elsewhere, they throw a few effective curveballs. "WDYYB", for instance, opens with filthy garage riffing that The D4 or Radio Birdman would swap their ripped jeans for and the faux-Egyptian nursery rhyme feel of "August" comes from another stratosphere altogether. Both tunes crank themselves into something truly dramatic, while with "Home" they succeed by coming on all wintry and vulnerable with Blackburn's waif-like vocals starring uneasily and the band maintaining a low-watt thrum. All surprisingly affecting, actually.
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"The Magician" remains magnificent, but the one potential cause for concern I can detect is that Clinic's penchant for subterranean, mutant-disco pulsing is becoming a mite predictable. Good though they are, both "The Majestic #2" and "Thank You (For Living)" sound like paler retreads of "The Magician" and head towards pastiche, while both the instrumentals "Fingers" and the splendidly-titled "Vertical Take Off In Egypt" are little more than filler, admittedly of a superior nature.
However, these are relatively minor quibbles, and the majority of the album suggests Clinic are still taking risks in the operating theatre and will pull through in rude health. No need for the screens just yet, thanks Doc.
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