Charlie Clark - Late Night Drinking

Scotland’s Charlie Clark released his debut solo album ‘Late Night Drinking’ on the 25th of November this year via No Big Deal Music. It was produced by Jason Shaw (Cambodian Space Project) and mastered by Ride frontman Mark Gardener.

Image and artwork courtesy of Sonic PR.

‘Late Night Drinking’ is a journey of self-reflection detailing Clark’s years with drugs, rock ‘n’ roll, and grief. Back in 2021, Clark kicked off the long redemptive road with the stunning pop-psyche single ‘Don’t Have Cow Man’. Brutally honest, Clark wraps up his remorse of drug abuse in the splendour of Cosmic Rough Riders' 00s classic 'Enjoy The Melodic Sunshine' album and the pop prowess of The Wannadies. Before this record. Clark had reinvented himself as a promoter in LA but due to the terminal illness of his father, he returned home to Stornoway. There’s a determination to be sober so that his father worries no longer. The frailty of the vocal lifts this song to remarkable status. The lack of confidence and anguish at whether he can succeed is so powerful you can smell it. This single is a rare breed; its hook is unadulterated pop music. Sonically vibrant, it spreads joy and colour across all that listen but, beneath the surface lies darkness and guilt threatening to spill over.

The title track ‘Late Night Drinking’ travels further back into Clark’s timeline on this tale of his destructive drinking. Exquisitely exposing the naivety of his former self (“I was thinking, I could stay / late night drinking/ it’s better this way”) on opening himself up to destructive patterns. Through the jangle of The Byrds and Snow Patrol’s spritely sense of exploration, Clark conveys the hope of alcohol’s allure and the inevitable melancholy when it fails to live up to expectations.

On ‘Blink Of An Eye’, Clark digs into the minutiae of relationships as he pours over past failings and rues things unsaid and left undone. His angelic vocal advocates less ‘High Fidelity’ nihilism but the inner workings of a fractured mind attempting not to repeat the past. In doing so, Clark freezes you in bliss and confusion.  Despite his specific narrative, there’s a universality to his songwriting which is timeless. The guitars gently explode into a Daniel Wylie rumble encapsulating the human brain’s ability to reel you into sleepless nights of agitation.

In the summer of 2020, Clark’s father sadly passed away. ‘A Bridge To Your Idol’ was written prior to the event but knowing it would come sooner rather than later. The poignant testimony utilises the wistful Celtic folk of King Creosote Clark and eloquently describes the helplessness of watching your hero fade. For most, allowing memories to flood the senses cause us to look away mournfully as it’s all too much take. What Clark has done is nothing short of heroic. Facing down all his demons, he has penned an ode to the man that gave him everything.  The isolated soundscapes and hushed vocals, conjure the distance grief births and should be required listening to all in this mental state to heal the pain.  

In many ways, ‘Late Night Drinking’ is the antidote to youthful rock ‘n’ roll. Teenage years are well spent dreaming of escape. Great records are built on the foundation of sex, drugs, and getting out of your hometown. Clark’s journey is coming full circle returning home and dealing with the excesses of escape. Captured by his own mind, often unable to rid himself of regret, he has had to find a new source of escapism. ‘I Don’t Mind If You’re Right’ details Clark’s quest to go beyond what he is and find new pastures new. A meditative tale of his newfound love of Kundalini Yoga is soundtracked by the Ride’s euphoric shoegaze and a great nod to Tim Burgess’ deeper vocal delivery. It’s on ‘Acid Rain’ where solace and contentment with who he shines brightest. Clark simmers down MBV’s emotive fog and taps into pop elements of Andy Bell’s classic debut ‘The View From Halfway Down’ as he cross-examines his past and present. Only this time, the pain of the past is being washed away and a gentler kind of hope emerges as a result.

A tumultuous cleanse of the soul that rewards creator and listener alike. Clark has built upon The National’s ability to embed melody into troublesome discourse by adding psychedelic pop to certain tracks. It’s a stunning debut from the Astrid bandmate, a piece of art in its purest form.

The album is available to purchase from his Bandcamp page.