CLUTCH bring the riffs and wonder to the West Country.
O2 ACADEMY, BRISTOL
Neil Fallon’s irrepressible rockers reaffirm their mastery
testing the Pa to its limits, the PICTUREBOOKS’ drummer Philipp Mirtschink’s volume is only matched by his animalistic technique as he propels the German duo’s primal blues assault. Flynn Claus Grabke’s affable charm sweetens the wall of sound that the pair summon so cogently. Such is the armoury of certifiable classics at their disposal, a three-hour CLUTCH show could still generate indignation about song choices. Yet with eight albums covered across the 17-song set, starting with an extended cowbell jam on D.C. Sound Attack! through newcomers Gimme The Keys and the bluesy Emily Dickinson, there isn’t a dull moment to be had. The Marylanders didn’t become the best rock band of the 21st century by putting on mediocre shows, and while there’s not much movement from bassist Dan Maines or guitarist Tim Sult, their mastership of their instruments is a spectacle unto itself. The same can be said for Jean-paul Gaster behind the kit, characterised by canny fills and funky toms, which cements the concrete groove that make Decapitation Blues such a hip-shaking beast. While in boisterous form riffing on the guitar, it’s when Neil Fallon is able to lurch around the stage, mic in one hand and gesturing with the other that he’s at his most beguiling. Whether jesting with hecklers, revealing the daft meanings behind Firebirds! (“Doing stupid things in vehicles”) and Hot Bottom Feeder (“I never thought our most controversial song would be a recipe”) or revelling in the response to Sucker For The Witch, he’s the ultimate MC. The one-two of Electric Worry and The Mob Goes Wild ramps up the crowd further, which sadly means that a well-executed encore of songs from The Book Of Bad Decisions is a mere polite ending to an otherwise jubilant affair. But when you constantly deliver perfection, rare talents like Clutch have to be held to the most rigorous assessment.