Like a revisionist historian, or Stalinist clerk, I've ruthlessly edited this review, dropping phrases, restoring bits left out by the original editor,and even writing some new lines that amused me. Fuck it, I'm listening to John Coltrane and am therefore suffused with the spirit that I can do whatever I want.
Post-Dubstar band Client didn't get anywhere, I was therefore right. Never forget this fact.
CLIENT/PINEY GIR/ A SCHOLAR & A PHYSICIAN - Zodiac, 3/04
Talk about biting off more than you can chew. Musically speaking, A Scholar And A Physician have tried to swallow in one mouthful the sort of foot-long hot dog that TV leads me to believe New Yorkers eat for every meal. They have far too many instruments onstage, from guitars to electronics to banjos, and their spaceman headgear, whilst striking, makes it hard for them to move around with any pace. One small step for a man, one agonising pause for a bloke in a silly costume.
Still, even with these setbacks they manage to make a pretty fascinating noise. Their main trick is to take rinkydink keyboard melodies, pitched somewhere between 70s sitcom Robin's Nest and ancient computer game Chuckie Egg, and proceed to throw funny noises at it until it collapses in submission. It's the sort of thing Wire editors listen to when they're hungover and can't face another Merzbow CD.
Somewhat overly cute, then, but enticing all the same. Their last song proclaims, "I'm just like you". No you're not, synthboy, no you're not - that's why it's fun.
Did I call ASAP cute? Then I've got no words left to describve the lovely Piney Gir. She used to be in Mute band Vic 20, but is now going it alone. She plays tidy little preset pop numbers on her toy keyboard, with occasional help from the members of ASAP. The references are French chanson, 70s MOR and, of course, 80s synthpop, but they all come out of the Pineytron sounding equally sweet, cuddly and yummily synthetic. Her victory is that this primary-coloured 2D sound dosesn't become wearing, and keeps on delighting, which is mostly down to her voice, which has more to it than is originally obvious. Dreamy, though the final megaphone rant cover of "My Generation" soon wakes us up.
Fresh from daytime Radio 1 play, Client drop into The Zodiac with some, ahem, electroclash stompers, seemingly about either sex or the service industry. It's a far cry from Dubstar. With their drab olive bouses, deadpan vocals and regimented elctro riffs, Client's effect is as joyless and austere as a fire safety lecture in a Polish gulag. The sparseness is alluring...for the first couple of tracks. Sadly, the lack of musical variety begins to bore, and the two frontwomen start to look less like erotic matriachs and more like blank-eyed checkout girls. There could be something here, but they'll have to stretch themselves a lot more first.
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