Calling in favors from younger, hipper musicians is often a clumsy grasp at cultural relevance, an attempt to open one's fanbase by embracing the kiddies' heroes and icons-- or at least their flavors of the month. On City, the newest release by those Orwellian sirens in Client (i.e. Client A and Client B), Kate Holmes (aka Client B) has called in a favor from hubby Alan McGee's clients The Libertines. Given the boys' tumultuous year, it's a blogworthy move-- there aren't many more sure-fire e-conversation starters than needle-pricks and broken crack pipes.
Fortunately, it's not a bust: Barât and Doherty's garage-punk leanings nicely offset Client's chilly electro-pop soundscapes. Barât's limp Brit drawl works particularly well against the charging dance-groove in "Pornography". His detached vocals recall The Human League's Philip Oakey or Depeche Mode's Dave Gahan (whose former bandmate, Andy Fletcher, signed Client to his Toast Hawaii imprint), and mesh well with the impassioned rants of Client A, ex-Dubstar singer Sarah Blackwood. Doherty, though, is another story. Given very little to work with on the beat-to-death-titled "Down to the Underground", his ale-rough vocal coughs against a gurgling electronic beat and seems force-fed, as though there were little room left for him but the studio was already booked.
Client unsurprisingly perfects their insurgent dance ministry when the boys have gone, and it's in the cool flirtation under their over-the-shoulder glances that the album leaves its mark. "Overdrive" is a volatile love swoon that spills across its reverberated beat like a chipped marble on uneven glass. Full of girth, dirt, and static-grime, the song tracks the dark, forlorn nature of post-bar lust, and begs you to watch as it flaunts its wares.
In direct juxtaposition to "Overdrive"'s caustic groove, "One Day at a Time" plays the Debbie Gibson to the former's Grace Jones. While some partners would wait for you to drown in sleep and then pick through your wallet for your gas card, Client here matronly pulls the covers up to your chin but still makes sure your toes are covered. Atop floating synths and a starry-eyed beat, its endearing charity contrasts pleasantly with City's general hedonism, giving the record a much-needed breather.
Still, as the album closes with another dawn-colored stomp, you can't help but feel deja vu. Fans of Client will appreciate the more dynamic edge to City-- like the syrupy synthetic strings on "The Chill of October"-- but those without a history with the band may write it off as another limp post-electroclash exercise. As for The Libertines... well, it's a sign that these kids are still just barely alright.
