I missed the Bakerton Group, which is Clutch minus lead
screamer Neil. I asked a friend of mine if they were good,
and he reassured me they were. Show up early and check ‘em
out. I caught most of Clutch’s set. They divided the night
into two sets, the first one being around and hour and a
half to an hour and three quarters followed by a twenty
minute break and then another hour or so of tunes. As with
all Clutch shows, it was amazing, the only thing missing
was "Animal Farm". The last time they played Boston, they
open with that and it was jaw-dropping. Talk about kicking
an audience in the head!! They played many crowd favorites
including, "I Have the Body of John Wilkes Booth", "Pure
Rock Fury", "The Yeti" and "Escape from the Prison Planet".
"Escape" lent itself especially well to an extended jam with
drums and organ getting some time in the front of the mix.
"A Shogun Named Marcus" was received with much enthusiasm by
the crowd, this reviewer included. All the moshing in the
pit made this wrought iron railing/drink holder around the
‘dance floor’ almost collapse. Mixed into the set were some
offerings from Clutch’s new disc, Blast Tyrant. It was a
trifecta of songs in the second set punctuated with furious
organ playing. The addition of the organ to their sound adds
a layer of funk and Americana to the usual sonic ferocity
that Clutch is known for and in no way seemed forced. It
works better than the horns added on The Elephant Riders.
The newer material was a welcomed instance of tonal diversity
to the musical landscape. It was all a prelude to the set
closer, though. Clutch firmly planted their boot in yer ass
while smackin’ ya in the face with a pummeling rendition of
"Impetus". -I will not relent, I will not relent, I will not
relent. I am driven! I’m sure those words echoed in the
ears of many as they walked out the door have taken in all
that is Clutch for the last 3 hours. All was well in Boston
that night. If you miss An Evening with Clutch, you missed
one of the best shows to come to town in eons.
Clutch/Bakerton Group
The Matrix is a new club
located in the basement of the Roxy in Boston. It’s a cool
space, I guess, but like all clubs in Boston the rock shows
are crazy early and are over by 10 PM because of the dance
night that starts at 11. Fuckers, I say. And double fuckers
because the drinks are way over priced, not that I was in the
mood to imbibe because of a little over indulgence the night
before, but that is a story for a different time. A slight
hangover notwithstanding, the real bummer of the night was
sitting on the Red Line, in the tunnel outside of Harvard
Station for 20 minutes because of a train fire. Yes, you read
that right, a frigging train fire to add that special layer
of noxious fumes inherent on the T. Did I mention I was
hungover? Uber-nausea was the word of the night.
Reviewed by: lux_interior13