Album review: Client
If there’s one thing that Client’s latest effort proves it’s that, after six years, the synth-toting ice maidens should be a lot bigger. Even with a string of impressive collaborations (Barât, Doherty, Burgess) under their matching belts, theirs is a permanent case of always the electro-pop bridesmaid, never the bride. So, while ‘Command’ sits firmly in their comfort zone, the Human League-meets-Kraftwerk swagger of ‘Son Of
A Gun’, or ‘Satisfaction’’s gloriously filthy strut are a match for any of the current slew of Korg-acolytes. But without major label backing or MySpace hype and with an image more saucy WWII pilot than Hoxton thrift store, it seems unlikely they’ll find their way out of the underground. Shame.