Client - In It For The Money

One of many Client singles that amp up the noise created within. In It For The Money is about as direct that Client ever got, not even trying to pretend that it’s all for the art and other ridiculous themes that many bands claim. It’s tight and harsh electro with Dubstar’s Sarah Blackwood’s (Client B) northern accent all over the Frasier Chorus’s Kate Holmes (Client A) angular synths. Worth the download for their version of Down To The Underground with guest vocals from one Pete Doherty.

First rate return to form from electro pop group Client, which includes in its line-up former Dubstar frontwoman, Sarah Blackwood.

Client return with "In for the Money', their first single from their second album which is called 'City' and which will come out in September. 'In for the Money' features war like sirens, and distorted vocals by Sarah Blackwood, formerly of Dubstar. It has a dark edge to it. Sarah sings "Give me love/give me sex/give me money", all in a thick Northern accent. 

'Down to the Underground', the first B side, comes across as like a more punky version of Depeche Mode. It has an early 80's vibe and backing vocals by lost kid Peter Doherty who sounds like a Smiths era Morrissey as he harmonises in the background. 'Burning Up' meanwhile sounds like a punky Human League and has slow, haunting vocals.

It is good to have Client back.

Client - City

Calling in favours from younger, hipper musicians is often a clumsy grasp at cultural relevance, an attempt to open one's fan base by embracing the kiddies' heroes and icons-- or at least their flavours 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 favour 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-coloured 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.

Client - Pornography 2xCD

The maxi-single is available in two CD versions and as a 7-inch vinyl with the accompanying poster. As already announced in our interview (Electrified!) in late summer, in addition to the title track "Pornography," it also includes the definitive live cover version of the Billy Idol classic "White Wedding." The 7" disc, besides the poster, also features the track "Tuesday," a killer synth-pop track not found on "City," which alone compels Client fans to buy it. Unfortunately, the accompanying "Pornography" video is questionable, as it once again—almost predictably—bears no discernible connection to the music of the two Client's. But perhaps this is a clever anti-video-airplay strategy by Toast Hawaii/Mute, designed to prevent listeners from overhearing the tracks and thus boost sales. Or perhaps this form of cinematic art simply escapes my comprehension. Perhaps—hopefully—the next single will be "Down To The Uunderground," this time as the A-side, and while they're at it, the "Mute ladies" might even choose a video producer from among the artists themselves.

Client - Clieиt

Client value their anonymity. As the first signing to Depeche Mode keyboardist and founding member Andy Fletcher's Toast Hawaii label, the two-woman band bill themselves as Client A and Client B and limit promotional photos to shots of their torsos and legs, decked out in matching outfits, typically combining airline hostess uniforms or shiny fetish fashion outfits, but we won't hold any of that against them. If you must know, Client is Kate Holmes and Sarah Blackwood. Holmes is the musical brain and former member of both Frasier Chorus and Technique; Blackwood is the Yorkshire-accented former singer from Dubstar. Client's debut occupies a rather uninteresting place in electropop's soft middle. At its best, it hums along with a sort of detached glacial sheen, skipping along on pleasant beats and tones, a healthy dose of attitude, and a bed of charming, jaunty singles. Too much of the time it comes off as a bit waterlogged because of its lack of sonic or vocal range. Blackwood's still-charming vocals are at their best when Client walks the fine line of detailing the life out on the dark, unsettling underbelly of cityscapes, like a less floral, more feminized Brett Anderson. In album opener/mission statement "Client", the band lays out their raison d'etre, intoning a series of catchphrases such as "We never say no" and "Satisfaction guaranteed." This sort of erotic cabaret act doesn't encroach on Peaches' shock-jock territory; it explores eroticism rather than wields it as a weapon. Client explore sex ("Price of Love"), drugs ("Pills"), and rock and roll ("Rock and Roll Machine") with cool, calculated precision. Some critics may sneer at Blackwood's coming "late" to the electropop game, but her warm Northern vocals suit the sound. Comparisons to Ladytron and Adult may be inevitable, but Client aren't as biting or melodically thrilling as either group. Still, this is a decent start; both for the band and Fletcher's label.

Client - Price of Love 12"

Client (frequently stylised as CLIEИT) are an English electronic music group from London, formed in 2002. They are most popular in Germany where they have had limited commercial success. They typically combine airline hostess uniforms or shiny fetish fashion outfits with glamour-girl aesthetics and harsh electronics to create a sound reminiscent of early forays into electronic sound manipulation and new wave. Their uniforms have become their trademark. The original band members were formerly known only anonymously as Client A and Client B, to the extent that their faces were not shown on any publicity photos; it has since been revealed that they are Kate Holmes (as Client A) and Sarah Blackwood (Client B). Holmes, formerly of Frazier Chorus and Technique, later started the fashion label Client London, and is married to Alan McGee (founder of Creation Records and discoverer of Oasis). Blackwood is the lead singer of Dubstar. On Client's debut EP, Price of Love, the group presents a colder, more predatory version of the sleek electro-pop also purveyed by Ladytron. While they never quite reach the cybernetic chill or existential terror of the likeminded Adult., there are some similarities to that group, too; the rather clinical yet fetishistic picture of women's legs and shoes on the cover recall Nicola Kuperus' photography, adding a visual parallel to the musical ones here. Deceptively fuzzy synths hum icy, eerie melodies as the singer competes with the drum machine to see which one can sound stiffer and more robotic. The drum machine has a natural advantage, particularly on the single's title track (which recalls the Human League as much as any of Client's contemporaries) but it's a dead heat on "Client," where the singer rattles off a list of increasingly sexually-charged corporate jargon before snapping "Fuck off, don't touch me there." Ultimately, Client's ideas (namely, the commodification of love and sex) might be slightly more interesting than the group's music at this point, but Price of Love is a smart and promising debut.

Client - Authority

With Client B, aka Sarah Blackwood, out of the group, Client's 2014 album Authority welcomes new vocalist Nicole Thomas, aka Client N, to the group, but that's just one reason why this is Client v2.0. Gone are the strict robot rules and minimal techno of the early years, as big and busy dancefloor fillers like "You Can Dance" suggest a completely detached Erasure gone a little goth. Second single "Refuge" is a luxurious, sweeping tune where the only detachment comes from Client N's lyrics and down dominatrix delivery. Cold-hearted electro numbers like "XXX Action" and "Obsession" harken back to the heavy concept days of Client A and Client B, but the album's best moments come when Client N gets to play up her love of the grand and the Goth. Consider this an album that Ladytron, Clan of Xymox, Gary Numan, and New Order fans can agree on, or better still consider it an improvement, or in keeping with the computer woman concept, reboot, and upgrade.

UK pioneers of female Electronica's return with one of the most eagerly awaited album releases of 2014… and they deliver the goods. "Authority" is an addictive powerhouse of minimal electronics, groovy rhythms and mercilessly catchy melodies. System reboot. Welcome Client 2.0! What is probably the most influential band in female Electronica is going stronger than ever with one of the most eagerly awaited new album-releases of the year: "Authority." Following a hiatus of four years, Client have recruited new singer Client N, a charismatic and powerful vocal performer who has been very active and renowned in the music scene of her home city of Bristol and have recorded a powerhouse of synthesizer-driven tunes that, in a way, marks a highly effective return to the group's roots in minimal electronic Pop music, yet with a very modern, club-oriented twist. Produced by Dave Francolini of Dragons-fame, the songs merge New-Wave-cool, a thorough helping of massive bass, a groovy rhythmic foundation and intriguing, yet relentlessly catchy melodies to an addictive sound that carries all the trademarks that Client are loved for but also elevates the music to a new level. "Authority" is also laced with a darker edge than any of the band's previous outings which fits the songs hand in glove and makes the new material all the more alluring. As showcased on the advance single "You Can Dance" (which featured a fascinating art video by UK fashion designers Vin & Omi), Client are really playing out their strengths with the new album, making "Authority" easily one of the most exciting Electro-Pop-releases of the year! 

Client - Heartland

Now a trio, Client continue to craft chilly, elegant electro-pop that's poised and business like, full of hooks, and tries to conjure feelings of luxury and efficiency.

Synth-pop has always been filled with deliberate coldness and facelessness-- nothing new about that. But that's not Client's style: They're one of few synth acts I've heard who seem to lack personality mostly by accident. It's hard to even pinpoint where that sensation comes from. It's not in their music, which is certainly up (one of) my alley(s): chilly, elegant electro-pop, poised and business like, full of hooks. It's not in their image, which is a good match for the sound-- first two and now three women, semi-anonymous, dressed up in sleek 80s business wear and flight-attendant uniforms that go perfectly with the luxury and efficiency they're trying to conjure. Heartland, their third album, is the kind of full-on solid record I barely even expect to hear these days, every track as concise and hook-filled as the last. Apart from the lyrics, they have all the bases covered: Anyone looking for reliable synth-pop thrills will find something to enjoy in just about every song.

The vagueness of those lyrics might be a clue to the problem, though: Client don't seem to have much that they're actually trying to get across to us. It's not just a matter of electro detachment, either. This, after all, is music that descends in large part from Depeche Mode, whose Andy Fletcher was the first to sign Client-- and god knows those guys are big enough drama queens to inspire deep personal attachment, fervent teenage under-the-covers listening. The band Ladytron, Client's closest English peers, have been learning to pack their tracks with the same kind of emotion; Goldfrapp, probably the next closest, just ramp up their glitter and physicality to the point of decadence. The problem with Client is that they're offering...what? It's strangely hard to find an angle in there, the right aesthetic particulars to give the band a face and a feel. And if you've located it, feel free to write in and tell me where.

The funny part is that Heartland really is awfully well-made-- great hooks, structure, production, the works. The introduction of a new member on bass gives their sound a new smoothness, which they use to cruise beautifully up to any number of great hooks. There's one on "Drive" with the casual cool of Elastica. There's one in "Monkey on My Back", with beautifully scripted pulsing and call-and-response chants. There's a Goldfrapp-style glam shuffle on "Lights Go Out", the most fetching of several songs that all might as well be singles-- I'll bet anything you'll hear it in a commercial one day, get it stuck in your head, and wind up thinking it sounds great. It's probably telling, though, that the big fun surprise comes from one of the band's old tricks, bringing in guest musicians to inject some personality. Simon Tong adds guitar to a cover of Adam Ant's "Zerox Machine", and while it's not quite the record's most memorable tack, the band suddenly seems to muster up some of the verve and spark that's oddly absent elsewhere.

What's really strange is that Client seem to think of their faceless, uniformed image as some kind of commentary on "manufactured" mainstream pop. Weird, given that that's actually the context where these songs work best-- as tight, stylish singles, the sort you can love hearing on the radio or the dance floor for a few months, all without stressing over what the band as a whole is all about. It's when you bring this stuff home, at LP length, that you start wondering: excellent craftsmanship, but what's your thing? Other bands are doing this too, after all-- and even when they're not as consistent, a lot of them have something in their music that we stand more of a chance of really falling for.

by Nitsuh Abebe