Clutch

I have had a resurgence of stoke on the band Clutch. I first listened to them in 1993 at the behest of a friend I ended up being in a band with. "A Shogun Named Marcus" was the first song I heard and it left a very memorable imprint in my mind. The band is comprised of a group of friends that graduated high school together in Maryland. Their sound is an eclectic mix of hard rocking, heavy blues, with colorful and illuminating lyrics. The band survived the rap-rock-metal explosion in the late 90's by sticking to their guns - always putting out their own brand of high power stoner rock.

Over the years I have maintained my excitement for Clutch's music through friends and serendipitous encounters with new releases from the band. Long nights of work in the kitchen at the Avalanche, road trips in need of some energy, and at the strangest of times when my music collection seems just too dry, Clutch would come back on the scene. For whatever reason, I have been listening to Clutch on heavy rotation since July/August and collecting more of their music. Through the search for more music, I ended up on their web site, www.pro-rock.com, and saw that they were coming to Denver on the same weekend I would be in Copper for a coaching clinic. Again, serendipitous.

As it happened, the night Clutch played at the Gothic Theatre in Denver, it was also a fairly massive winter storm with near whiteout conditions and slippery highways. I ended up travelling to Copper with Paul Elkins, Kyle Anderson, and Erin Bloom - all ready for a coaching clinic, and unsure of a 60 mmile drive to Denver. About two miles from Copper I accidentally ripped off the wiper blade trying to snap off the ice build up from the heavy snowfall. I rigged it back together and drove further into the storm. We got our accomodations dialed in Center Village and ate dinner. Erin had homework to do and little interest in Clutch. Paul and Kyle were loosing interest after dinner, but I was on a mission. I had failed to secure tickets on-line before they sold out and didn't know if I could get them at the door because no one would answer the phone at the Gothic. It was past 7 and I knew we would miss the opening act. Paul and Kyle started to settle into the couch with the television on.

Ordinarily I am the first to buckle under the pressure of a comfy couch and a good nights' sleep. But this night was different. "I'm going" I announced. Paul, who I have been friends with for 16 years and attended many, many shows with gave me the "I'm in" look. Kyle, a 22 year-old who had never attended a "hard core" show and didn't have any money had to be bribed - I offered to buy his ticket. Game on. Back into the storm. The wiper broke into an unnatural angle a few miles out of Copper, so I had to rig it with a paper clip. No stopping now.

We made Denver in good time. I dropped Kyle and Paul in front of the Gothic and they got in the line for tickets. I parked the car and met up with the boys after they had secured our entry. It had been a long time since I had been to a show that I really wanted to see - maybe two or three years since I saw Social Distortion at the Gothic. Entering into the world of tattoos, piercings, not-so-beautiful people, cigarette smoke, sticky floors, and standing room only, I knew I was where I wanted to be. I bought a round of beers for the boys then made my way to the front of the theatre. Smoke hung in the air as the crowd chain-smoked and tittered in excitement. I breathed it in. Usually I hate second hand smoke and crowded scenes, but a show is made up of these elements and I knew I was right where I wanted to be. The crowd was a mix of older (30 somethings) and rougish younger folk. Scarey looking, but surprisingly polite and stoked.

Enter Clutch: Drummer and singer wraping a tight drum beat and cow bells to start things off. It sounded like "Release the Dub" but I can't be sure. Oh yeah. Dancing begins. I watched a digital clock at the side of the stage and tried to adjust my mental game to rock out hard but reserve enough juice to drive us safely back to Copper. I lost the clock through the haze, stage lighting, and the sonic vibrations as the set took off. Loads of new stuff with a smattering of old. Between songs the band would roll into impromptu heavy jams generally lead by J.P. on drums. Very tight. Then, BAM! Into the next song. I stayed on the side of the pit, but close enough to the action that I was getting knocked around and doing some knocking. The audience sang heartily and danced with vigor. An hour into the show Neil announced that this would be a two-set show. They played a couple more jams, including "Regulator" - one of my most heavily played jams - then took a breather.

Paul and Kyle seemed to be digging the show, but they hadn't jumped into the pit. Neither of them had much exposure to Clutch, but liked what they were hearing. It must have been a bit strange to be surrounded by people singing these criptic lyrics with loads of heart and not knowing any of what they were saying. Shortly into the second set I saw both Kyle and Paul in the swirl of bodies on the floor. I had moved to my favorite spot, centered in the back of the pit. When "Shogun Named Marcus" came on the place went pretty balistic. I remember singing with all I had while surging through the pit with as much energy as I could muster and thinking that there was no other place I could possibly have felt as right and good.

The second set was sweet. The crowd rose and fell with the beats, danced to the rhythms, and sang along with Neil. New songs like "What Would a Wookie Do?" and "10001110101" mixed with the beauty of old jams like "Elephant Riders" and "Tight Like That." Paul was up against the front of the crowd pressed against the security baracade - rocking with the people. It had been too long since I had been in the mix, and I felt raw and thankful. My life is a different sort of entity these days than when Paul, Chris Pierre, and I were always the ones instigating a pit and loving the chaos. Returning to the mash of bodies and courteous violence was a blessing. I don't want to change course and live for that time, but it was a welcomed visit to a place I am glad still exists.

When we left the theatre it was snowing hard. When we finally got on the road it was after 1 am. Kyle fell asleep in the back almost right away. Paul's head dropped to one side shortly after we left the Denver metro area. I drove into the storm, my mind swirling like snow in the headlights.