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Review: Clutch/Green Lung/Tigercub, O2 Academy
One of the neatest tricks Clutch have pulled off in their 30 year history has been to dodge categorisation. Sure, there are elements of blues, stoner rock and more than a dash of ZZ Top in their sound, and they boast a rhythm section that can get downright funky when occasion demands, but the Maryland quartet have achieved an extraordinary level of success without being dumped in any genre pigeonhole, drawing large and cosmopolitan audiences. No doubt there are those who care about their ‘cred’ who consider that this is the rock band they’re permitted to like.
This diversity is reflected in the selection of British support acts on the second leg of Clutch’s epic, two-part UK tour. Much-hyped, acquired-taste Brighton trio Tigercub worship in the cavernous church of alt.rock, with a bass-heavy sound, plenty of distorted guitar and drawled vocals. They make a lot of noise, but much of it is undistinguished, though their repertoire does include one impressive, rather atypical song entitled Stop Beating on My Heart (Like a Bass Drum).
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Sabbathy London occult metallers Green Lung are more at home in a coven than a church. They played a great post-lockdown show at the Exchange back in 2021 and, having recently signed to Nuclear Blast, are clearly relishing the opportunity to bring their music to a much bigger audience.
Splendidly named Tom Templar is never going to win any of those Best Vocalist awards, but his voice is perfectly suited to Green Lung. Thanks mostly to headbanging keyboard player John Wright’s vintage organ and piano sounds, they occasionally seem like a great lost Satanic metal act from 1971.
Songs from the Black Harvest album continue to dominate, with Leaders of the Blind, Old Gods and Reaper’s Scythe getting the receptive audience rockin’, while the atmospheric Graveyard Sun showcases their mellower side without slipping into the Pagan folky vibe that their image might conjure up. Nun-corruption fave Let the Devil In provides a rousing finale with its chant-along chorus. Better yet, unlike so many acts graduating from the club circuit, they seem entirely at home on the large Academy stage and it’s quite conceivable that they’ll be headlining here before long.
The temperature’s hovering around zero outside, but this is one of those packed and sweaty nights at the Academy when it feels as though 3,000 people have somehow been squeezed in. The non-initiated may be surprised to find that there’s nothing flashy about Clutch. They’re just a quartet of unassuming, middle-aged blokes who wander on to the stage and proceed to unleash 90 minutes of their patented Pure Rock Fury, with little in the way of adornment. While guitarist Tim Sult and bassist Des Maines simply nod along with the rhythm, Philip K. Dick-obsessed frontman Neil Fallon, who still looks like he could have stepped off the cover of The Band’s self-titled second album from 1969, gives it the full rock icon-meets-Old Testament preacher routine. A highly physical performer, he delivers those witty storytelling lyrics with absolute conviction, regardless of whether he’s singing about UFOs or fine cigars.
Crowd favourites The Mob Goes Wild and Earth Rocker are dispatched fairly early in the set. We also get four songs from Clutch’s latest, typically excellent release Sunrise on Slaughter Beach, kicking off with the covid conspiracy theory puncturing Red Alert (Boss Metal Zone) and the great heavy blues of Slaughter Beach.
“This is a song about personal hygiene – or lack thereof,” quips Fallon as he introduces The Soapmakers, perhaps cognizant of the fact that, being packed in like the proverbial sardines, we’re all keenly aware of our fellow rockers’ failings in this department. It’s also safe to say that after months on the road Clutch are absolutely on fire tonight, never more so than when they tear through the magnificent A Quick Death in Texas.
A keyboard player pitches up late in the show, which means that 10001110101 makes a welcome return to the set. The singalong Electric Worry then romps straight into The Face and that’s it for this time. Lemmy always used to say: “We are Motörhead and we play rock and fucking roll.” We first saw Clutch supporting Motörhead at the Hall Formerly Known as Colston back in 2006. Today they’ve earned the right to inherit the late Mr. Kilmister’s mantra.
All pix by Mike Evans
Read more: Metal & Prog Picks: December 2022
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