Image by Michael Boyd
Shearwater and Clinic catch wicked case of the Mondays in Chicago
May 12, 2008, at the Empty Bottle
By Amy Formanski
Published: May 13th, 2008 | 7:05pm
If you can imagine England's two reigning musical “-head”s (Radio and Portis) performing with severe PMS but somehow retaining a sense of humor, that comes close to the vibe of the show at Chicago's Empty Bottle on May 12, 2008. Both Shearwater and Clinic filled the venue with haunting, mournful songs that felt out of sync with the peppy after-work crowd listening to them. Shearwater played songs from its upcoming album Rook (Matador) and 2006's Palo Santo (Matador) with passion, but the audience chatted over them, sharing tales of their 9-to-5 workdays. The keyboards of “Sing, Little Birdie” tinkered along like a dreamy lullaby, but no one really paid much attention.
What a damn shame that they missed the nuances of gorgeous elements like Jonathan Meiburg's booming vocals, which belongs more in a tortured Irish folk band than a pop act. Details like the trumpet on “Rooks” and Kim Burke's upright bass throughout the set layered gently over Meiburg's crooning. The brooding “Leviathan, Bound” elevated the level of moodiness, while the banjo on “Red Sea, Black Sea” brought back the Southern twang. The concertgoers ignored these somber elements while drinking and giggling, but the band members appeared unruffled by the audience's blathering. Instead, they took it in stride and wore calm expressions almost like masks.
Liverpool's Clinic wore actual hospital masks and tacky Hawaiian shirts, inserting humor into their dark performance and grabbing the audience's attention. Ade Blackburn sang through a hole cut in his mask, making him look even sillier than his band mates. The band played every song off its April release Do It (Domino) in the order they appear on the album, creating smooth transitions and adding to the hypnotic quality of the show.
The aggressive guitar and thumping drums of “Memories” contrasted with Blackburn's breathy voice, which strangely resembles Micky Dolenz of the Monkees. Other trippy influences peeked through as they progressed with the album. With its jangling guitar and harmonica, “Tomorrow” recalled both the Velvet Underground and Donovan, but Clinic added a twisted smirk to their psychedelic rock. Next, “The Witch” hooked me with its hypnotic but discordant tone. By then the band had cast a spell over everyone. During the sleepy, romantic “Free Not Free,” whiffs of pot smoke filled the air and added to the heady atmosphere.
Blackburn lightened the acid flashback tone of the evening when he referred to “Mary and Eddie” as a “medieval country-western” song. This self-deprecating humor saved the band from sounding too aloof or pretentious. Their campy costumes and sinister tone came off so heavy-handed that it was impossible to take Clinic seriously, but the guys didn't seem to care. By entertaining themselves, as well as the crowd, they accomplished their mission. Exiting the stage to the sound of church bells, Clinc's sonic circus left town.
Issue #35
Comments
Please login to be able to comment on this article.
more