Clutch

To hear Jean Paul Gaster, drummer for Clutch, describe his group’s state of mind it is like listening to a Clutch song: They rev up then barrel along, knowing full well you’re going to get somewhere worthwhile by the end. “We cover a lot of ground,” he starts off hesitantly. “We’ve had an album out. We’ve toured for two years…we have confidence,” he repeats as his pitch builds into a cockeyed crescendo. “We don’t suck any more.”

Not hardly. Their new album, self-titled Clutch is another feast for brain and guts. Like the opening salvo of “Big News,” a scorching track which drags you along on truck wheels of lolling guitar and bass, each song unfolds itself. About half way through you realize you’re listening to a song about pirates. “Yeah,” agrees Jean Paul “It’s about a wigged out pirate just doing pirate shit.” Lack of unique subject matter has never been a problem for Clutch. One of their crowd pleasing favorites, “Binge and Purge” (from their raucous debut album Transnational Speedway League) was inspired by David Koresh’s Texas style bonfire. Neil Fallon Writes most of the Clutch lyrics, with Jean Paul, guitarist Tim Sult, and bassist Dan Maines rounding out the rest of the group. Dan tries his hand at defining Clutch’s place in what seems to be a post-punk sweepstakes these days. “We really don’t fit into that genre or any genre,” he says. “We may not sound like Led Zeppelin or Black Sabbath or AC/DC or bands like that, but we owe more to that kind of band in a way than any other.”

The group’s penchant for big, greasy rock is delicately balanced with a hair-trigger sensibility for shooting down icons of any order. Whether their target is religion as on “The House That Peterbilt,” or satirizing the stupid clich_s of road life as on “Rock n’ Roll Outlaw,” Clutch doesn’t waste time grasping at straws. They inhale them and everything else in their way with the fee-fi-fo-fum vocal style of singer Fallon. “A lot of people will point to some of the bigger styled seventies influences when they talk about us, but I don’t think we’re influenced by those bands so much as there were no good rock bands in the eighties. Bands in the eighties sucked,” says Jean Paul. Whether the group likes it or not, though, those were the formative years. All of them went to high school together in Germantown, Maryland. They graduated at the end of the decade bound for college and/or the ‘grind out lifestyle’ of indie rockers. “I just like to say some of us graduated from college and some didn’t” laughs Jean Paul. “Some of us took more classes than others. As for me, I could never stay focused in school. Everyone talks about attention deficit disorder or whatever, but I think it’s really an excuse for people like me who don’t give a Fuqua.”

Clutch could carry surgical apathy to a high art, that is they definitely know what they do and do not care about, wasting little time on hand wringing about too many “band decisions.” They all agree, however, that a fierce dedication went into the making of their second album. “The bottom line on this record,” says Jean Paul, “is we all sat down before we made it and said ‘We’re going to make nothing short of breakthrough record.’” Not that there haven’t been mini-breakthroughs along the path. Their initial recorded effort, the 7-inch “Pitchfork,” was released in 1991 to solid support from the get go. It caught the attention of some major labels and with not much more fanfare than that, Clutch was signed. Transnational Speedway League was hailed for its hard-driving axis, coupled with the now-trademark slow burning tempo; the band toured endlessly, developing a rapid corps of fans who considered a Clutch show a “must-see.” “The kind of a person who comes to see a Clutch show usually brings a friend to beat up,” say Jean Paul. “There’s also the kind of fan who just stands there studying the group,” seconds Dan. “That’s what I did when I went to shows, just stand there and watch intently.” It’s also the best way to soak-up the kind of storytelling Neil Fallon provides throughout.

The band members themselves don’t exactly know where he gets his ideas. One of the songs on the new album, “I Have The Body Of John Wilkes Booth” is practically Homeric (Not Simpson, the other Homer) as it unveils its tale. “As far as I know,” puzzles Dan, “it’s about a fisherman; he’s been fishing for 13 years and hasn’t gotten a bite. One day he pulls into the other cove and feels something pulling on his line; it’s a casket. Inside is the body of John Wilkes Booth. He ends up selling the body. I think Neil was going to have him buy a circus with the money but the song was too short .”

Not every track is an opus, however. The thunderous piss-puddle of “Tight Like That” is a garagey slab of pointed rock. To obtain that kind of sound the band purposefully recordedthe Clutch album in the basement studio of a longtime collaborator Larry Packer. It was Packer who produced their first trip to the plate, “Pitchfork”.

“We wanted Larry for many reasons,” says Dan. “We wanted to be more relaxed about it. We figured recording with Larry would help us make the purest record possible. On the first album we had to fly to the West Coast and everything. Being a new band, it was distracting. On this album we had a green light to try any ideas we wanted.” Jean Paul agrees, citing some particular adventurism on getting the right drum sound: “A lot of albums now you’ll hear something that’s supposed to sound like a snare or a bass drum. On this album we took the time to get the exact sound we wanted. Any kid listening to this album is going to know what real rock drums are supposed to sound like.”

Another difference between Clutch and the crop of post-grunge groups they’re often aligned with is that you won’t find any feigned allergy to fame. These guys invite all the trappings – good and bad – that go with any sudden success rock-life may bring. Extensive touring plans are in the works, the longer the better, according to Jean Paul. “A lot of bands complain about fame but I want to be as big as fucking possible. I’d like to tour the next two years. I don’t want to live with my fucking parents anymore,” he laughs. “There’re cool and everthing, but Clutch is best when it’s rolling. Yeah, I could get into fame and fortune, no problem.”