Clinic – Funf

There’s no filler or slightly less moments. If anything I think that Funf is going to find itself played more than their last LPs have been chez nous.

There’s no filler or slightly less moments. If anything I think that Funf is going to find itself played more than their last LPs have been chez nous.

 

Clinic – Funf

www.dominorecord.com www.munich.com www.clinicvoot.org

 

Fabulous! A compilation of Clinic B-sides, oh we happy few! There’s something so bloody cussed and autistic about this lot that you just can’t help but love them. The release’s playing time clocks in at just under half an hour; and rather than being a bad thing it does help the listener concentrate their mind on the songs. There’s no filler or flabby moments. If anything I think that Funf is going to find itself played more than their last LPs have been, chez nous.

 

The Majestic is a sub-surfer, slightly off-kilter instrumental whereas Nicht could be something off Faust’s You Know LP, all and growling guitars and acerbic, spat-out lyrics. Christmas is strange thing, seemingly a lament about presents, all set over the most doleful and sparse of backings. It’s got something in common with Julian Cope’s Hey! High Class Butcher. Following that, The Castle is reminiscent of a spaced-out Seeds (well the keyboard sound is at any rate).

 

There’s a lot of stuff to remind you of your Nuggets LPs on here; You Can’t Hurt Me Anymore and Dissolution; The Dream of Bartholemew give an idea of where Clinic’s heart lies. Magic Boots and The Scythe are great slabs of guitar riffery whereas Lee Shan is a nice old fashioned waltz. Of sorts. Well its not, really…  J.O. /Love is just a Tool returns to the sloth-like organ sound; I love it when they sound so half arsed, no-one around does it better. Circle I returns briefly to the truculent, fast-paced riffs before Golden Rectangle closes with a maudlin stroll.

 

I can’t recommend this CD highly enough.

 

Words: Richard Foster.