Clutch - Strange Cousins From The West
Imagine if Faith No More had been raised in the South and exposed to the tones of the local Baptist Church, if Jane's Addication had expressed their oddness through macabre funk rather than esoteric lightness, or if Kyuss had been amalgamated with Sly & The Family Stone. It is only then that you begin to comprehend the uniqueness with which Clutch present the listener - indeed, they literally present it, the art work for this record is littered with maps, UFOs and a host of arcane symbols. And yet, for all of this oddness Clutch have managed to balance being utterly unique with being instantly loveable. They have achieved this by ensuring that each song is crafted around the two things that provide the foundation for all great music - an infectious rhythm and irresistable melody. This then is reinventing the wheel for the sake of taking a famliar journey, but one made all the more mezmorizing for the effort.
Take 'Let A Poor Man Be'. Just when you thought you couldn't hear another take on largely traditonal blues, you are proved utterly wrong by the cold slap of originality. Clutch's blues-rock is like Govt. Mule or a ZZ Top revelling in their quirkiness whilst being backed by a herd of elephants necessary to carry the weight of their grooves. This is schizophrenic stoner rock captured largely in the juxtaposition of the bands funk with vocalist Neil Fallon's dark vocals and wrapped around with guitars that often boarder on the eerie.
Here is a band unconcerned with trends, airplay or increased record sales. A band who make music for the people who get it. The small group of devottees worldwide who want to take the journey this album offers. All of their records have been strong, but despite the weight of expectation Clutch somehow manage to exceed it. More stripped back than their last two albums, the band's performance is more forcefull and to the point. Neil Fallon's usual scat-like delivery has been toned down to allow the natural melody and tone of his voice shine in all of its richness, and the lyrics on opener 'Motherless Child' are even instantly comprehenisble, almost bordering on blunt. But the curve-balls soon come thick and fast: '50,000 Unstoppable Watts', 'The Amazing Kreskin' and 'Freakenomics' all possess the typical Clutch tone without ever veering into the realms of 'stock' - indeed it is only on 'Witchdoctor' that the band approach a by-the-numbers tune. But ultimately, this is Neil Fallon's record - his preacher-man ability to whip a song into a frenzy most evident on the impossibly chameleon structure of 'Abraham Lincoln'. Pefection made to look improvised.
In a musical landscape increasingly grouped and penned in it is refreshing to be presented with something so un-catergorizical as Clutch, and joyous to allow your mind to be opened to their swamp-gravy grooves.
Imagine if Faith No More had been raised in the South and exposed to the tones of the local Baptist Church, if Jane's Addication had expressed their oddness through macabre funk rather than esoteric lightness, or if Kyuss had been amalgamated with Sly & The Family Stone. It is only then that you begin to comprehend the uniqueness with which Clutch present the listener - indeed, they literally present it, the art work for this record is littered with maps, UFOs and a host of arcane symbols. And yet, for all of this oddness Clutch have managed to balance being utterly unique with being instantly loveable. They have achieved this by ensuring that each song is crafted around the two things that provide the foundation for all great music - an infectious rhythm and irresistable melody. This then is reinventing the wheel for the sake of taking a famliar journey, but one made all the more mezmorizing for the effort.
Take 'Let A Poor Man Be'. Just when you thought you couldn't hear another take on largely traditonal blues, you are proved utterly wrong by the cold slap of originality. Clutch's blues-rock is like Govt. Mule or a ZZ Top revelling in their quirkiness whilst being backed by a herd of elephants necessary to carry the weight of their grooves. This is schizophrenic stoner rock captured largely in the juxtaposition of the bands funk with vocalist Neil Fallon's dark vocals and wrapped around with guitars that often boarder on the eerie.
Here is a band unconcerned with trends, airplay or increased record sales. A band who make music for the people who get it. The small group of devottees worldwide who want to take the journey this album offers. All of their records have been strong, but despite the weight of expectation Clutch somehow manage to exceed it. More stripped back than their last two albums, the band's performance is more forcefull and to the point. Neil Fallon's usual scat-like delivery has been toned down to allow the natural melody and tone of his voice shine in all of its richness, and the lyrics on opener 'Motherless Child' are even instantly comprehenisble, almost bordering on blunt. But the curve-balls soon come thick and fast: '50,000 Unstoppable Watts', 'The Amazing Kreskin' and 'Freakenomics' all possess the typical Clutch tone without ever veering into the realms of 'stock' - indeed it is only on 'Witchdoctor' that the band approach a by-the-numbers tune. But ultimately, this is Neil Fallon's record - his preacher-man ability to whip a song into a frenzy most evident on the impossibly chameleon structure of 'Abraham Lincoln'. Pefection made to look improvised.
In a musical landscape increasingly grouped and penned in it is refreshing to be presented with something so un-catergorizical as Clutch, and joyous to allow your mind to be opened to their swamp-gravy grooves.
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