The Clientele - The Violet Hour

The Clientele's The Violet Hour sounds exactly like its title, a dusky, reverb-washed 2003 record made for the strange blue minutes between day and night.

Alasdair MacLean's London band had already won devoted fans with a run of early singles, but this was their first proper studio album, and it confirmed them as one of the most distinctive guitar groups of their era. Drawing on 1960s psychedelic pop, the hush of Galaxie 500 and the literary melancholy of English indie, they built a sound that felt both ghostly and warmly familiar.

"Voices in the Mall" drifts along on chiming, softly echoing guitar, while the title track sets MacLean's near-whispered vocal against a gentle, rolling rhythm that seems to fade even as it plays. "House on Fire" and "Porcelain" glow with delicate, half-remembered romance, the kind of songs that sound like old photographs feel.

Everything here is soaked in atmosphere, from the soft drums to the way the vocals sit just slightly behind the music, as if drifting in through an open window on a warm evening.

Records this quietly beautiful rarely announce themselves, which is exactly why this one rewards patience. Put it on as the light starts to go and let the room fill up with that famous Clientele haze.