Clutch
From Beale Street To Oblivion

THE REVIEW

After many years of experience and a discography that's certainly not slim, Clutch returns with the new "From Beale Street To Oblivion", and finally with a distribution that graces even Italy: let's say it with extreme satisfaction, it was about time that some asshole, broke-ass son of a bitch recognized the talent of these 4 rockers (sorry for the French).
But, unfortunately, they're not the first nor will they be the last to not receive the due/appropriate attention from critics and the public: they are those rare cases, like Unida (a great band by John Garcia, with two albums to their name) that emerge, in light of current rock, as anachronistic groups because of their background that magically sinks its roots in the past, indifferent to trends or the current sounds rock has undertaken.

Speaking of Unida, I strongly recommend you recover the unreleased album as soon as possible (you can find it under the name "unreleased album"), which was supposed to be released by American Recordings but in the end, due to legal reasons, remained frozen (let's hope not forever). A mortal sin, considering the album is one of the finest cases of old-school hard-rock that have come out in recent years, even produced by Rick Rubin (who had sensed the enormous potential of the band) where every single song is full of emotion and passion, with Garcia's voice often of a moving beauty.

An album of truly epic proportions, but it's simply the cruel destiny reserved by today's market for bands like these, and where the cause of this is not so much a problem of revivalism, but is rather to be found in the current trend that revivalism has assumed, mainly driven by the image imposed by record companies on bands, who if they want to achieve easy and immediate commercial success, cannot refrain from not caring about it.
For Clutch (or Unida), it can’t even be called a revival (or resurrection) operation, Clutch simply has what they play in their blood.
Influenced by the musical tradition and the context they live in, they didn't appear out of nowhere with a focus on revivalism: what they play now is the result of many years of forging their style, which is now well-defined, mature, and personal.
This maturity, achieved long ago, in this album concerns especially the songwriting, where there is no hesitation and in the vocal lines, which are as always superb, catchy, and even better than before, if possible. Indeed, the voice confirms to be the real added value, if not the core of Clutch, but on the contrary this time it seems the instrumental part wasn't spent too much, limiting itself somewhat to doing the minimum compared to the past, avoiding experimenting with some new solutions (except for some "southern" episodes): sometimes the song structures indeed have a perhaps some "traditional" rock'n'roll form and lack that unpredictability, madness, and creativity that have always distinguished Clutch.
Their greatest ability has not been a sterile re-proposal of vintage hard-rock, but that of crossoverizing the genre in a completely personal manner, which differentiated them from all other bands in the melting pot.

Returning to the album, it doesn’t mean it's a mediocre album, only that the expectation was greater considering the last two amazing albums.
This new one indeed continues the theme started with the previous one, namely a hammond organ present massively that enriches every song with its touch, allowing an adorable seventies feeling to breathe throughout the album.
The role of the hammond untangles in following step by step the riffs, sometimes dueting with them or simply as background to enrich the overall sound.
The typical Clutch sound therefore remains untouched and without particular noteworthy novelties, although with a less clean production than the previous ones by Joe Barresi (already with Kyuss, Tool, QOTSA, Melvins).

One of the songs that stands out immediately is certainly "White's Ferry", with a mid-slow tempo, weary and evocative, like a "return journey": its tones are calmer than usual, but it regains power in the chorus, and with an almost psych finale (a song quite unusual for Clutch, to be honest, which stands apart from their typical standards).
Another song that stands out immediately compared to the others is the following "Electric Worry", a rousing ZZ Top style boogie rock reinterpreted by Honky (an exceptional but almost unknown underground band), where the southern roots of the band emerge complete with harmonica and irresistible vocals: bluesy-rock tradition and much groove.
But it is not the only piece on the album with a southern imprint, indeed there is also "Black Umbrella", another song that makes it clear how much the group was influenced by the drummer's experience behind the skins on the last Five Horse Johnson album, bringing a breath of confederate spirit into Clutch.
There is no use going over the remaining tracks too much, there are no better or worse ones because everyone will find in any case their favorite groove, between an epic "Rapture of Riddley Walker", a "When Vegans Attack" (a crossover between rock/blues with splendid country incursions), the irresistible chorus of "Power Player", a reflective "White's Ferry" or an exhilarating and hyper-groovy "Opossum Minister" (indeed yes, these last two are my current favorites). The warm and enveloping tones of the organ do nothing but paint red light scenarios, and I’m surprised that Clutch haven't yet given "John Holmes Strikes Back" as a song title, but considering titles like "Opossum Minister" or "When Vegans Attack", then there are very good probabilities for the future.

This is porno-groove, friends, and after an album like this I'm bored even just hearing about a band like Wolfmother which, after only one album, is already extolled, or even hailed by various people (unfortunately not just from the young), as the Led Zeppelin or Black Sabbath of 2000.
Of 2000? I would say straight as the originals of the '70s, since this is a group devoid of any personality, that simply exploits (plagiarizes?) the classics because it sensed the right moment when a revivalist musical proposal of the sort could garner positive feedback.
It naturally leads one to bring up for the billionth time the usual MTV, a vehicle of the spread of all kinds of polished musical trash like a tramp and packaged just right for the average teenager who, deprived of any mental autonomy, swallows various types and extraction of crap like Velvet Revolver, The White Stripes, Evanescence, Lacuna Culo, Trivium, Good Charlotte, Muse, Franz Ferdinand, and indeed Wolfmother, as if they were gold.
But holy mother, do you really want your children to grow up with this kind of insult to music?
I mean, do you want to introduce to these poor kids today what rock is with throwaway bands that stand out between actors, posers, and jugglers, which is the policy MTV is founded on?
Do you really want to leave your children in the hands of a nanny like the White Stripes?
I don't even want to know where you guys are going to sleep, it gives me the chills, it gives me the chills... (cit.)

Clutch can be trusted, you can be assured, they know hard rock like the back of their hand and they don't try to screw you over: they are 4 ordinary American workers who bust their asses in more or less ordinary jobs, and who then at the end of the day only have the need to relieve stress by playing in the most sincere way possible (but with uncommon class). Making this music, it's hard to think about getting rich, and even though they are now professionals, their role is to keep you company with a healthy, honest, and unpretentious dose of "From Beale Street To Oblivion".
A band and an album to take to bed with you as they are well versed in the rules of transport, and the next morning you will still find them next to you, because they are not a slut.

If you have a physiological need for groove and genuine spirit, ask for no one else but Clutch: rest assured they have enough in tons to warm your numbed souls.