The Clientele formed a long time ago in the backwoods of suburban Hampshire, playing together as kids at school, rehearsing in a thatched cottage remote from any kind of music scene, but hypnotized by the magical strangeness of Galaxie 500 and Felt and the psych pop of Love and the Zombies. Singer Alasdair MacLean still recalls a pub conversation where the band collectively voted that it was OK to be influenced by Surrealist poetry but not OK to have any shouting or blues guitar solos. From that moment on, they put their stamp on a kind of eerie, distanced pure pop that has been stripped to its essentials.

Bonfires on the Heath is in a sense a return to the Clientele’s roots; the dreamlike suburban landscapes first encountered in the early singles, their trippy sense of menace stronger now. Back in London, they’ve drawn on older traditions of English folk, which exist here side by side with the band’s more familiar bossa and pop elements. Mel Draisey’s contributions on piano and violin add beautifully to MacLean’s timeless, eerie songs.