Clutch attacks the town again

Upon arrival at Alley Katz in Shockoe Bottom, people were already standing in line outside. It was 7:30 p.m. and the show did not start until 9 p.m., yet there they stood. It was so cold you could see your breath. What would make people behave in such a way? It was Friday night and Clutch was in town.

For those unfamiliar with this enigmatic a band, which performs a brand of music critics mistakenly label “stoner rock,” Clutch is a five-man ensemble from Germantown, Md. Their lineup includes vocalist/guitarist Neil Fallon, drummer Jean-Paul Gaster, guitarist Tim Sult and bassist Dan Maines. Their music makes you want to jump, head-bang and generally just freak out, and the lyrics conjure up images of mythology, ancient history, science fiction and fantasy. Clutch has been around for more than 15 years, and for my money there is none better. Not live, nor in the studio. They have an original sound that, in spite of what some might say, is straight-ahead, full-on rock laced with thoughtful, well-crafted lyrics. Clutch matters.

Kelly Carmichael, the opening act, had the crowd bopping to his down-home, smack-the-grits-out-your-mouth blues. Performing solo with an acoustic guitar, he held himself well. The perfect warm-up for the next act, Carmichael is the former guitarist for Internal Void and more recently Pentagram. His set was about an hour long, and throughout one thing was certain – this guy could play. But the anticipation for Clutch was building throughout his mellow set. While his playing is masterful, and he pulls off some of the best white-boy renditions of deep southern blues I have ever heard, the people were there for Clutch.

While awaiting the arrival of Clutch to center-stage, my girlfriend leans to me and says, “I’m hot. I’m taking off this sweatshirt.” Given the close quarters of the affair, this seems like a logical action. The place is packed wall-to-wall with human flesh, all pulsing back and forth and up and down in anticipation of the legendary band. The air is getting thicker.

The excitement is at a fever pitch when my girlfriend leans to me again and says, “I have to go sit down.”

I turn to her and say: “Where are you going? There is no place to sit. It’s a sea of people.” Before I could utter another word, she is heading for the bar, which is about 10 feet away. I follow behind, noticing her begin to wobble. We had a couple of beers apiece two hours beforehand. Maybe it was the pizza.

I saw her begin to fall. I grab her by the arm and shoulder and yell at the fools watching, “Help me get her up!”

We make our way to the bar and I sat her on a chair that I made someone move out of. She is still woozy, just coming to. Next comes the puke, which I catch most of in a Dixie cup. The look on the bartender’s face when I hand her the puke-filled cup was priceless.

After a few minutes, Clutch is on and the crowd is rocking. Halfway through “Burning Beard,” my girlfriend makes a full recovery with the help of some love and water.

As if preaching to a rock congregation, vocalist Neil Fallon conducted the evening as though he were sending out his followers to reclaim the globe. His facial expressions, movement and hand gestures beckon you to follow his lead. The crowd swayed in time as one blistering performance after another tore through eardrums with impunity.

All the favorites were played – “Burning Beard,” “Mice & Gods,” “Immortal,” and “The Mob Goes Wild.” I have been to 500 shows of one genre or another over the last 15 years and have never seen or heard anything quite like this.

It was your typical night at Alley Katz. For the duration of the show, the guys next to us stood on their chairs jumping up and down. It was a huge crowd, mostly stupid-drunk, all behaving like Cro-Magnon man. This is my only problem with going to see a band that I really appreciate. Fools always put a damper on things.

All things considered, the night was tremendous. The energy generated by the band and the crowd feeding off one another was truly a sight to behold. It was enough to make people pass out, for God’s sake. This was an evening where I truly felt privileged to be a fly on the wall. This is one Halloween weekend I will not soon forget.