RELEASED a year ago, Clutch’s tenth album, the well-received Earth Rocker, preceded gruff-voiced singer Neil Fallon’s enforced hiatus for surgery on major spinal problems.
Returning at the end of last year, Fallon remains as irrepressible as his Maryland band have been during a 24-year spell as exponents of bluesy, punk-infused metal: his relentless, hyperactive gesticulations and wild facial contortions were starkly contrasted by his trio of bandmates tonight, who stood stock still in front of a sold-out crowd whose collective facial hair would have been the envy of any beard festival.
Those bluesy patterns were underpinned by guitarist Tim Sult, whose busy fingers, expert pedal use and tight tremolo technique produced constant patterns beneath Fallon’s sonorous tones.
A noticeable dearth of songs from Clutch’s formative records – 1995’s self-titled album, and the 1998 follow-up, Elephant Riders – might have frustrated their fans. But The Mob Goes Wild, a track from 2004’s Blast Tyrant which has soundtracked guitar videogames and, immortally, opens with Fallon requesting permission to “adjust my pants”, caused carnage among the hardcore.
These experts at building to crescendos finished frenetically, combining the ebullient riffs of Electric Worry and One Eyed Dollar in seamlessly forceful style.
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