Eight years, countless gigs and a trail of devoted fans later, The Clause have finally dropped their debut album and it was worth every second of the wait. Victim Of A Casual Thing is the sound of a band who’ve grown up, held their own and bottled the chaos, charm and confidence that’s defined their journey from Birmingham schoolmates to serious contenders on the British indie scene.
The record opens with Prologue – just over a minute of ambient chatter and atmosphere that builds tension beautifully. It feels like a curtain raising, much like The 1975’s recurring album openers, but with a grittier, Midlands swag about it. You can practically feel the anticipation of the live crowd before the first chord hits.
Then comes Nothing’s As It Seems, a thumping, hook-heavy reminder of why The Clause are quickly becoming one of the most exciting names in UK guitar music. “Don’t waste your time wishing that you were somewhere, ‘cause nothing matters when you’re six foot under,” sings Pearce Macca – a lyric that’s both brutally honest and surprisingly uplifting. It’s a track about living in the moment, a sentiment that feels woven through the album’s DNA.
Across Victim Of A Casual Thing, The Clause blend the nostalgia of Britpop storytelling with slick modern production and energy that’s entirely their own. There’s a cinematic quality to it – you can tell these songs were written with live shows in mind. Big choruses, lyrical vulnerability and guitar lines that practically beg to be played in a packed out venue.
Tracks like Elisha show their knack for vivid detail – “clinging onto memories of sweet 16 when you kissed me round the back of that Wetherspoons in Leeds.” It’s that kind of writing – specific yet universal to a British listener – that makes The Clause stand out. You don’t have to be from Leeds to feel the nostalgia.
Elsewhere, familiar favourites like Fever Dream and Weekend Millionaires slot seamlessly alongside newer cuts, each one layered with sharp lyricism and the band’s signature punch. The production is polished but still raw around the edges – exactly how indie rock should be.
Closing tracks Pink Moon and Don’t Blink round things off with emotional weight and reflection. Pink Moon sees Macca channelling a softer, more introspective side, his vocal performance aching with sincerity – somewhere between Noel Gallagher’s solo finesse and Sam Fender’s emotional punch. What a combo. Don’t Blink then pulls everything together. A euphoric, sprawling finale about friendship, change and how quickly life can pass you by. It’s the perfect ending for a band who’ve grown up together in real time.
What’s most impressive is how cohesive it all feels. For a debut, Victim Of A Casual Thing sounds like a band who know exactly who they are and aren’t prepared to change for anyone. And so they shouldn’t. They’ve taken the ‘60s swagger, the ‘80s groove and the ‘90s attitude they’ve always promised – and made it sound unmistakably now.
The Clause are part of the new generation of British guitar bands carrying the torch from The Enemy, The Reytons and DMA’s – all bands they’ve supported on tour – but they’re not living in anyone’s shadow. This debut cements them as leaders of the pack, definitely not followers.
If this album proves anything, it’s that The Clause were never victims of a casual thing – this was always destined… see what I did there?!
