To the Scala last night for the overdue live return of the wonderful Clinic. Four Scousers in silly hats and surgical masks playing thrash garage rock with melodicas. What's not to love about that?


Anyhow, I've blogged about Clinic before (and the continued indifference towards them by most otherwise sensible music lovers and music publications) so instead I'm going to mention their first support act, the apparently hotly-tipped Wild Beasts.
The Mac/Hitch jury is out on the Beasts at the moment - Andy thinking them at best okay, and myself thinking there could be something great there if only the singer didn't do that funny jerking thing with his neck, the bassist didn't wear a vest and have terrible hair, and if an arranged marriage between Talking Heads and the back catalogue of Glasgow's Postcard record label hadn't already resulted in Clap Your Hands Say Yeah.
But there was one song ... one of those songs that has an insistent hook that gets under the skin on even the first hearing and won't go away. And I discovered today that it was their previous single Brave Bulging Bouncing Clairvoyants. Good title.

Good video.
But didn't that pesky Franz Ferdinand get there first on this one?
Keith Boadwee - over to you ...

Labels: Clairvoyants, Genius, Pop Music, Surgical Masks