Clinic Visitations by: Mark Simms Tue:13-Feb-07 Label: Domino Year: 2007 WB rating 54 out of 100

I have no idea what’s going on!

Listening to Visitations, I feel I am in a straitjacket, surrounded by strange voices and alien sounds. The four members of Clinic hover over me, their usual costume of surgical masks covering their faces. Their eyes glare down; holding giant syringes they prepare to inject me with their crazed concoction of sound. The music: a dirty mix of garage punk, the indescribable, and experimental; clashing, ear-splitting instruments and whining vocals. Visitations feels ever so tight and restrictive. This catastrophic mess of sound and strange space age invention leaving the listener on the edge of sanity.

Opening track ‘Family’ blares in an unrelenting distortion of guitar and drums. It is easy to imagine lead singer Ade Blackburn’s mouth held captive under his mask; his teeth clenched, grinding together and blocking the way for the words that are trying to escape. Blackburn sings as though he is the tormented soul who should be in this straitjacket as I can’t make out what he is saying. In fact I can’t make out what anyone is saying amongst the psychosis of noise that is surrounding me. There is way too much going on, and I crave a valium.

In ‘Gideon’, the backing ghost vocals sound quite haunting, like wails from long down the hallway. The riff-based guitar is repetitious and its tone starts to annoy and torment. It’s joined by subtle sounds of shakers as well as a mixture of simple drum beats and keyboards making strange and eerie backround noises, which combine to create an even more unpleasant mood. The sounds don’t feel like they belong together. ‘Gideon’ taunts the ears and head like a really tall nurse – waving that valium above the head, too far out of reach.  You want her to stop, but she won’t.

‘Tusk’ causes me and the other patients to jitter and shake uncontrollably, like we are undergoing a violent session of electro-shock therapy. Guitars screech and Blackburn’s voice seeps out of his mask like some microscopic virus infecting the ears. I’m not exactly sure what to be feeling at this current moment. These noises invite crazed behaviour. Should I make like R.P. McMurphy?  Run at Blackburn with my arms stretched out for his neck? Have we lost control? No. I guess all we can do is grip the edges, hold on and hope for some gentle reprieve.

The jolt of electricity that only just ran through the head and shocked the senses now seems distant, as ‘Paradise’ morphs into the mellowest track on Visitations. The sluggish bass, subdued drums, and clarinet create a calmer feel, but this is not Clinic on autopilot; Blackburn’s haunting and whining voice betray any chance of rest.

Drip. Drip. Drip. The strange noise that opens ‘Children Of Kellogg’ is like a sprinkle of rain before the downpour begins. It tells the ears to prepare themselves. Noisy and distorted guitar and bass ensure that everyone listening cannot get too comfortable. ‘Children Of Kellogg’ sounds messy and scattered. The atmosphere of these instruments is frantic and patients run through the hallways – their eyes alight and grins wide as they embrace the storm of lunacy that shakes the entire building.

Visitations is an interesting and unique listen, but your ears will not feel the urge to go through the experience again any time soon. It is something to put on when contemplating burning down the town or going on a rampage, as the noises awaken crazy thoughts in the mind. It is always nice to try to experience new things, but when it is all over, I am glad to say goodbye to the straitjacket, the pills, surgical masks and syringes and come back to a world where I like to think I have at least a little idea of what’s going on.