Issue 99 / May 2019

album was more electronic-based and had loads of drum
machine sounds on it, which came from Hartley’s direction. The
songs were more his on that album. As a kind of a reaction, and
with me having more songs on this album [Wheeltappers And
Shunters], that steered it back to more of a short, sharp shock
world on this LP. Kind of punk.”
Not all punk has to be deadly serious. I’ve always thought of
Clinic as a playful band, even in the period when their music had
those harder edges. One of the things the group have become
known for is the scrubs and surgical masks they wear on stage,
which lends an air of menace to proceedings. But even this has
an element of mischief to it, allowing them to play it straight, or
mix up the mood by swapping the scrubs for ponchos, Hawaiian
shirts, or in this case, lurid shellsuits. Over the years, however,
this has become something of a millstone in itself, and I wonder
if the band begin to feel the weight of expectation that their cult
popularity brings…
When you’re sitting down to write, do you feel any pressure
because of your reputation?
Err… I used to, and luckily I think I’ve got past that a bit. Possibly
around the time of Winchester Cathedral and Visitations [albums
from 2004 and 2006, respectively], I really felt it then – that
you’d built something up to a certain point, but it was very
easy to lose it. I think I’m more laid back about it now, perhaps
because you’ve established what you do a bit more then you
take it a bit less seriously. When we’re going over the music, if
we think it’s getting too serious then it’s usually crap! That’s the
time to change.
Did you ever consider dropping the outfits?
Well, around the time of the Do It! LP, we’d kind of got to a
point where there was a bit of a backlash – which there usually
was with bands around then, when NME and all that was still
going. Perhaps what would have worked in your favour to start
off with – like having some sort of costume – became a bit of a
stick to beat you with. I don’t think it was ever something we
seriously intended to do [losing the outfits], but when you’ve
been doing something for six or seven years, as it was at that
time, some days you do just wanna escape from it. Especially
if you’ve got that added pressure. You’re bound to want to
question everything about the band, of course, and if you should
be changing tack. I’m glad we didn’t cave in, though. It kind of
comes full circle anyway, and if you stick at it, people sort of
admire your stupidity!
With such a big break between albums, was there ever a
temptation to not come back? I’m just wondering where the
motivation comes from to get back in the room with everyone
and do it all over.
[sucks breath in] Mmm, yeh, that is a really good point. Err… I
don’t know whether it’s more common for bands to just do an
album and go and tour, and perhaps not think about doing new
ideas or songs that much until they reconvene later with the
mindset, ‘Oh we’ve gotta do a new album’. It’s never been like
that for us. There’s never a time where we’re not doing new
songs, and in that way, I don’t even think about the process. I
don’t think, ‘Oh I haven’t done any new music today,’ it’s just
something that I instinctively want to do. I guess I’m probably
quite lucky, in that sense. I don’t know whether, over time, that
can go as well.
There’s a reference to the weird, darker side of that 70s
aesthetic on this LP that isn’t quite the rose-tinted view of
this golden generation as it’s often made out to be. Beyond
the direct reference to The Wheeltappers And Shunters Social
Club, what did you want to say lyrically with it?
The main theme which runs throughout quite a few of the songs
is this escapist feeling. In amongst how difficult things have
become in, say, Britain, you can still see a lot of people trying to
have a laugh and being creative. The final song on the LP, the
Copacabana one [New Equations (At The Copacabana)] – which
is one of Hartley’s – is this daft, escapist idea. Again, calling the
album Wheeltappers And Shunters is that idea of the old working
men’s club, the kind of place where there’s still people who’ll go
out and enjoy themselves even though they’re up against it.
Do you think there’s sometimes a bit of snobbery towards that
whole aesthetic and generation? That it’s not high-brow enough?
Yeh. Especially if you compare the way that world is with, say,
something like the Baltic Triangle, then it seems like just a
totally different age. Because I grew up with all that through
the 70s, there’s a genuine sense of community and excitement
attached to that memory. It was, kind of, a less cynical age.
You’ve been around since before the term ‘psych’ was
popular, yet you’re often lumped in with that world. I’m
sure you don’t set much store by labels such as that, but, if
pressed, how would you describe Clinic as a band?
Well, when we did Festival No. 6, Jeff Barrett from Heavenly
came up to me after the gig and said ‘Oh yeh, you’re a punk
band aren’t you’. That’s kind of how I think of it as well. Not
in a Pistols type of way, but ultimately it’s got that underlying
edge. That’s always been the most important thing to us.
Though they’ve been around for a good two decades,
Clinic have always felt like outsiders. Yes, they release on a big
indie label, and yes, they have a cult following and the respect
of scores of fellow musicians – but their fondness for being
weird and operating on the edges has been their biggest
strength.
Any self-respecting fan of Liverpool music must have one
Clinic album in their collection. They’re part of the soundtrack
of our outsider heritage, one that pushes you to take risks and
ask, ‘Is this weird enough?’. Or, better still, ‘How weird do you
want to be?’ One listen to Wheeltappers And Shunters will
tell you all you need to know about why the current scene is
as rich and daring as it currently is – because artists like Clinic
have been there and done it, shown how you can be playful
and fearless and damn fucking good all at once.
Clinic have always been at their best when they’ve been
pushing the edges of freakiness. It’s good to be an outsider.
It’s good to be weird. It’s good to do things that people don’t
expect. Because no one wants to be predictable. !
Words: Christopher Torpey / @CATorp
Photography: Rhian Askins / rhianaskins.co.uk
@clinicvoot
Wheeltappers And Shunters is released on 10th May on Domino
Records. Clinic headline Inside Pages at Constellations on 22nd
June, as part of our bido100! programme. Tickets are available
now via TicketQuarter.
FEATURE
17