The Clientele: The Violet Hour
Devon Powers, PopMatters, 19 August 2003
YOU HAVE TO turn up the volume to hear the Clientele, and it's still quiet. Alasdair Maclean sings in a breathless whisper; their music itself is hazy, like it's on an old gramophone, playing in your memories. The style itself is such a faithful rendition of shimmery 1960s pop that the act of listening to it is itself a sort of time warp. Not a dream, but it feels that way. By the close of one of their albums, you might need a pinch.
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