Clor - 'Clor' (Parlophone)
4/5
By: Thomas Hannan
What does 'so now it hurts' actually mean? How can something hurt just because it's incredibly indicative of the current state of a scene? Where's the pain in that? Well, if Wittgenstein was right and use really does define meaning, then it matters little, because 'Clor' can probably be described that way and you'll know exactly what I'm trying to get at. Clor, then. So 'now' it hurts.
But so much fun it's completely devoid of any real pain. If there was any, it could probably be redeemed by applying one of those overly colourful plasters with a picture of Scooby-Do on it. They dwell on the topic in one of their finest moments, the ode to the perils of romance that is 'Love + Pain', but it's done in such a brash and vivid way that it acts as a healing force rather than a good sulk. It acknowledges problems, not making them disappear in shallow hedonism but focusing on the marvellous things that are around us, all of us, that we take for granted. It's the very best kind of feel-good record.
Perhaps though, they're the kind of peculiar outfit where you need to allow some time for them to seep in, the kind of band where a mere few tracks can't reveal what it is exactly that they're getting at. Maybe it's why this very same scribe thought little of the preceding EP 'Welcome Music Lovers' sometime last year. Maybe it's to do with the re-recordings of those songs that pop up here sounding tremendously meatier. Or maybe only now do I actually get it. Clor - I'll print off a hard copy of that piece specifically so I can eat my words.
Apologies over, now time for the praise. Clor write edgy, dangerous, magnificently uplifting pop music. It's electronica that rocks; dirty, sensual, hitting hard with mechanical precision but always containing a sentiment that's clearly recognisable as being human. It can come across as soppy, the 'each of us is special in our own unique way' self-help mantra that ends a wonderful 'Outlines' sounding a little peculiar at first, but when you later arrive at the downright breathtaking sleaze of 'Magic Touch', the contrast provides you with both pieces to the puzzle. Possession of the whole picture is very important.
It's also a very geeky, quirky little record. There are enough funny chord progressions and uncomfortably overlapping time signatures ('Garden of Love' pulls off both admirably) to keep things musically interesting, but a fantastic tune isn't ever sacrificed solely for the purposes of keeping us on our toes. And great songs aren't exactly rare in these parts, be they a wistfully danceable 'Good Stuff', the unusual vocal acrobatics of 'Hearts on Fire' or 'Dangerzone' with its sleek, engrossing funk and debt to Prince, each one as vital as the other.
Kids of the past didn't have this sound, not quite like it is on 'Clor'. They're 'now', indeed. But the great thing about the present is that, if you think about it, it is in fact the future actually happening.
Artists in this article: Clor
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