When CLASH last caught up with the mysterious, pseudonymous house producer Clive from Accounts, he had just finished compiling the ‘Alan EP’ a self-explanatory project composed almost entirely from an array of Alan Partridge samples. It saw him creating kick drums from a combination of car door slams at Lynn’s mum’s graveyard and Alan slapping his bag onto the travel tavern front desk. If you haven’t already heard it, it’s every bit as good as that probably sounds.
The intervening years have seen the self-described “stationary cupboard loiterer and all-round beige sky thinker” juggling the day job alongside the creation of his first full LP, boldly entitled ‘The Very Best of Clive from Accounts’, which he’s gearing up to unleash upon the world this week. It sees Clive creating what he describes as “the musical equivalent of warm photocopies” which is as evocative and inviting a descriptor as any music lover that’s ever basked in the harsh fluorescent glow of an office environment could ask for.
As ever, Clive’s brand of left-field, toe-tapping house comes as a welcome reminder of the heady days of lo-fi house and its array of absurdist monikers. Paul Weedon recently sat down to swap faxes with Clive and reflect on his musical journey thus far.
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Hello Clive. I gather you’ve been quite busy since we last spoke. What have you been up to?
Well, I was getting sick and tired of dodging taxes on behalf of my famous clients, so I finally made inroads into creating my own tax haven. Situated above Abra Kebabra in Croydon is the official state capital and nerve centre of Cliverpool (TM). We deal almost exclusively in Clive Coin (TM) and although not officially recognised as a sovereign body yet I’ve been assured by Keith – the man who repairs the pub fruit machines – that the wheels are in motion and all the right diplomatic cogs have been greased.
Okay, great. Well, for the uninitiated, what led to Clive from Accounts getting into making music like this?
In the late 90’s I heard Scatman by Scatman John majestically wafting over the tannoy during one of my regular visits to Tandys. The rest is history, really. I believe it was the first track to use the Roland 909 drum machine. Certainly the best anyway. It lit a fire inside me that I’ve been desperately trying to extinguish with regular visits to the studio and / or Rennies.
And now you’ve got your very first LP primed and ready to go. How long did it take for everything to come together?
It took over two years of sweat and tears. No blood though. That would be weird. I could have possibly finished it sooner but, as I warned the label, I do insist on stopping to watch Bargain Hunt every two hours. Watching people being really shit at trading antiques always spurs me on in my own pursuits.
How would you characterise the sound of the new record?
If you were to take a pinch of Jean Michelle Jarre, a sprinkling of Nickelback, a dash of Leo Sayer and a whisper of 90’s Gabber you’d get the exact opposite of my album I’d say. Does that help?
I mean, that’s something, I guess. Last time we spoke you’d just finished up sampling Alan Partridge clips for your ‘Alan EP’. What vocal wonders have you been working with this time around and where did you stumble across them?
Now, I normally wouldn’t risk losing some of the limelight but I’ll make an exception here. For the three vocal tracks we have the inimitable Maya Kuroki, Kipp Stone and Riko Dan. Along with Jessica Roch on violin and my brother Tom on trumpet, they made each track 1,000 times better, bringing some technicolour to my beige noodlings. Aaron from Razor n Tape found Kipp, but I basically cold-called Riko and Maya and amazingly they were up for it!
At first glance, I thought the album artwork was a photo of your office set up. Then you sent me a photo of a dog alongside it and I realised it was a ½ scale model. Thanks for clearing that up.
Some people might say don’t leave your album artwork up to a Jack Russell, but I wouldn’t pay them much notice. Indigo was a consummate professional throughout. Her assistants and “Artists”, Teal Griffin, Charlie Harrison and Sean Hancock, did an alright job too.
Yes, it’s all half scale and my understanding is that they plan on creating a franchise of American Psycho-themed escape rooms aimed at the under 5s. No, I couldn’t be happier with the visuals and I can’t thank the guys enough.
You can check out their actual brilliant work here: https://www.sandmanmattresses.com/home and here: www.instagram.com/seanhancockphotofilm
You’ve worked with a handful of international labels: Dirt Crew in Germany and you’ve partnered with the US-based Razor-N-Tape again for your first LP. How have they found it working with a UK-based accountant who just so happens to make bops like yours?
Well, let’s put it this way: if one of your label’s artists who also happened to be an accountant who may or may not have noticed some minor financial irregularities, who may or may not have done you a favour by personally checking said irregularities with the IRS and recommending a full audit on your behalf, thus saving you the trouble and cost of a phone call – you’d be grateful wouldn’t you?
Sorry I’ve forgotten what the question was. Also, important legal disclaimer: this is all bollocks.
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You’ve picked up some famous fans since we last spoke too. What’s the most surreal experience you’ve had with a big name since Clive began his musical journey?
I hate to keep name dropping like this, but I’ve heard that Anne Diamond is a massive fan of mine. She asked me to DJ at her 70th, but unfortunately we couldn’t reach agreeable terms. I flat out refuse to be in the same room as Clive Anderson and that is non-negotiable.
You have to be the only Clive in the room. I get that. ‘The Very Best of Clive From Accounts’ is a strong, decisive title. What happens if the next album features material that’s even better than this one?
Yes, I made a rod for my own back with that title. It nearly killed me making sure that the album was indeed my very best. I knew I should have called it ‘B-sides and Rarities’. I’m 95% sure the next one will be ‘The Ultimate Clive Collection’. There’s no mention of it being good, so I’ve given myself some breathing room there.
Good to cover all bases. What would your advice be to any fellow finance types who are thinking about pivoting into music?
Swapping balance sheets for bass lines is an exciting but dangerous game. One I fully recommend though. Just don’t call yourself a lame ripoff like, I don’t know, Colin From Accounts or something.
Is there anything else you’d like to add?
Yes, can someone please tell me how, in the song five little ducks went swimming one day, they swim “over the hill and far away”? How do you swim over a hill? On a bit of that old 45 degree water? Ridiculous! That’s been bothering me for ages.
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The Very Best Of Clive From Accounts is out on February 28th via Razor-N-Tape.
Words: Paul Weedon
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