Clearlake - 'Amber' (Domino) Released 23/01/06

In these parts, they might be only the second best-known band from the Brighton-Hove area after the inimitable British Sea Power, but Clearlake’s overseas profile has been considerably higher of late. The spell of US success must have put the four-piece in a boisterous mood; at least if the largely brash, noisy and vigorously uptempo sounds on this, their third album, can be used as a reliable barometer.

‘No Kind of Life’, a hypnotic, motorik mantra that sounds not unlike the needle getting stuck on a track from The Bends, with countless vocal tracks eased in to battle it out with an equally expansive guitar overload as Jason Pegg harmonises with himself whilst repeating the same four lines over and over, provides an impressively moody start, but things soon unravel. 

What was intended as a swift follow-up to the band’s acclaimed 2003 album Cedars took ages and eight (!) studios to complete, and it shows in some unfortunate ways. ‘Neon’ kicks off with an exhilarating combination of a filthy harp riff and a proper distorto-fest of the scruffiest guitar sounds known to man, but the intro's promise of vital spontaneity quickly vacates the premises due to excess polish and other evidence of painstakingly crafted produce. Similarly, the vibrancy of the initially infectious and lively ‘Good Clean Fun’ evaporates as the tune strains a bit too hard to reach the levels of simple enjoyment hinted at in the title. Elsewhere, from ‘Finally Free’, which could be Oasis in a Kinks-aping mode were brothers Gallagher & co able to come up with something this nuanced and light of touch, to the fuzzed-out garage blues of ‘Here to Learn’, Clearlake try on more or less ill-fitting sounds and styles, so much so that the band's own identity and sound seem occasionally lost amidst frantic genre-hopping.

Which is a shame, because when Clearlake ditch the gloss and the musical role-play, the results are nothing short of outstanding. Were the resistance-trampling qualities evident in the title track's cello-driven heartbreak, the country-flavoured late-night lament of 'Dreamt That You Died', the bounceful, uncharacteristically positive pop of 'It's Getting Light Outside' or the, well, widescreen, expansive fretboard workout epic of 'Widescreen' present on a more regular basis, Amber might have been a truly special album. Now it's merely a frustratingly uneven one that only momentarily highlights the strengths that keep pulling the punters in Stateside.