I've been to quite a few studios before — you know, those things with mixing desks and monitors and tape machines — and I've been into Habitat — you know, that shop with the posh decor and the smart kitchen equipment — but this is the first time I've ever combined the two.

Not that Clock's got a stripped pine 24 track with ethnic effects units and reel-to-reel wok; just that there are very few studios that you'd give high marks on aesthetics if they were your living room rather than your recording suite. With this one I was enquiring about moving in.

This chic modernity could actually be ascribed to two things. Firstly, the place has only been open about four or five months now (since September last year, in fact). And secondly, and more important to the musician than the interior decorator, they started off the studio with the idea that they were not going to cut corners, either on the gear and premises or on the seemingly less important stuff such as making the place comfortable and nice to work in over any length of time.

Therefore where in most new studios there would be lino and rockwool crumbs, in Clock there's a smart beige carpet. Where you would normally be tripping over used tape boxes, gaffer tape, cracked Cannon plugs and little crunchy bits of solder, there are neat grey walls and a comfortable new sofa. And more impressive still, they've actually got one of those red and white kettles that look like a big jug. It's amazing.

What is just as amazing is that the quality of the equipment matches the decor. For instance, take a gander (any gander) at this little lot: AMS digital reverb and digital delay with harmoniser cards; Bel four second digital delay; Scamp noise gates; Urei compressor/limiters; Sony PCM digital mastering system; Soundcraft TS24 console... need I go on? I think by now there will be studio owners all over the country quietly sobbing into their handkerchiefs, because it's very expensive stuff.

Clock, you see, is the result of a quartet of musicians, both professional and amateur (but involved in the business in other ways) putting together both their heads and their wallets to come up with a studio that would start off on the right foot. Unlike so many, Clock never had to scrape around for money and open for business while still building the desk, installing the monitors or laying the carpet. Neither was it — or will it be a victim of the dreaded vicious spiral which goes 'if we don't get gadget X we won't get bands in; but we can't afford gadget X unless we get bands in; but we can't get bands in unless...

As one of the four directors, Chris Harrington, told me, the whole kit and caboodle cost about £130,000 — but there wasn't as much to do as there could have been.

"This place had been a small eight track studio before we bought the lease, and therefore the soundproofing and the basics had already been done. It would have been more expensive and a lot more time consuming otherwise.

"Our only real economy has been the desk, which at the moment isn't quite as good as a Solid State Logic one. The SSL is definitely the prestige one to get, which you pay through the nose for. However, hopefully very soon Soundcraft will have an automated computer mixdown system and that will do a lot to narrow the gap. We're just waiting on Soundcraft for that. "

But despite the lack of SSL, the 24 track control room does still present quite an impressive sight; The Tannoy monitors are built into the wood-panelled walls, and there is plenty of space for the all-electronic band to set up their keyboards and other devices without feeling cramped.

The recording area next door is large enough, too. It's got a reputed capacity of 15 musicians, and at one time there have been 25 people in there overdubbing a Tibetan chant on one track, which I can well believe. In one corner sits the studio's Premier kit in its own booth, with curtains on two sides of it movable to reveal an acoustically live brick surface; and across the other side of the room sits the Ibach grand piano, in a very fetching light Oak finish. Very Habitat again, but unlike most pine furniture, it's apparently got a good, bright tone when miked up.

Customers at the studio have varied tremendously, from the heavy (Bernie Marsden's Alaska) to the souly (Big Sound Authority) to the Hi-Energy (several of the Boystown brigade). But with rates at £35 per hour plus VAT, although negotiable for advance payment and over longish periods, it's mainly bands who have been signed or who are backed by a moneyed manager who can afford to record here. What they get for their money is a thoroughly professional well-equipped place with a good atmosphere, so it has been pronounced well worthwhile by almost all that have so far visited.

But if you don't want to go for the full production job, what do you do? The answer — you go to Clock's eight-track demo studio at just £7.50 per hour and do rough versions of your future number ones. This dinky recording room was designed, with its RSD desk and Fostex eight-track machine, to be easy and quick for one person to use, so the budding genius can produce his fabbo product with the minimum of interruption or risk of embarrassment. It's got all the stuff you need for a good solid demo including effects, and it's already been visited by one of the fabulous Frankies among others.

Other highlights of Clock works includes an impressive array of test gear — another area they've spent money on where most studios would have just hoped and skimped. Therefore if anything ever goes wrong with the gear they can track it down in minutes rather than hours — the difference between a band taking five and a band taking their custom elsewhere. So in the long run, just like the rest of the stuff, spending at first may well prove to be a wise investment for the future.

For any band or record company considering purchasing studio time, Clock would seem to be just the ticket. It's only 50 yards from Barbican tube station, but if you think it's not worth checking out, mind, you'd be wrong...

CLOCK RECORDING STUDIOS (Contact Details)