Clutch & Murder by Death

Feb. 28^th, 2008 – At the Beaumont Club in Kansas City, it was pretty easy to tell who was there to see Murder by Death and who was there for the night’s headliner, Clutch.

    Unfair though it may be, the term "meathead" sprang to mind at the sight of some of the more obvious Clutch fans—the bigger guys with long, straggly hair who didn’t look like they’d changed clothes since about 1998. The kids there for Murder by Death were just that—kids. They had Xs on their hands instead of the wristbands of the way-older-than-21 Clutch fans. And they wore button-down Western shirts and asymmetrical, indie rock haircuts. Considering that Clutch has been making music since before some of those Murder by Death kids were born, the generation gap wasn’t too surprising. As is typical, the bands’ fashion reflected that of their fans. Murder by Death came on outfitted in chic Western wear; Clutch wore nondescript T-shirts.

    Petite Murder by Death frontman Adam Turla slightly resembled Chris Carrabba until he opened his mouth. He sang about getting wasted and getting revenge in a timbre so low and Elvis Presley-like that it hardly seemed like his natural voice. Sarah Balliet’s electric cello added to the haunting neo-twang of songs like “Brother.”

    Clutch’s set stretched on for close to two hours, as the band dug into a 20-year-catalog that bridges punk, metal and Southern-tinged classic rock. Especially when he wasn’t saddled with a guitar, stocky, bald-headed singer Neil Fallon proved that he’s still an intense frontman who doesn’t need good clothes to seem interesting. With a half-mad look on his face, Fallon paced the stage in a plain shirt and blue jeans, deliberately making eye contact with not only the dudes headbanging in the front row but the fans crammed onto a walkway at the side of the stage that led to the club’s back bar. Fallon had his own little bar of sorts on the stage floor—several water bottles and a beer. Every few minutes, he’d take a pull on the beer bottle and then follow it with some water.



    On bluesier songs, the band’s noodling could get excessive, with Fallon standing limply on stage, waiting for his next opportunity to sing. Late in the set, he revived the weary crowd with the infectious chorus of “Electric Worry.” “Bang, bang, bang! Vamanos! Vamanos!” Fallon shouted over and over. The Spanish word, of course, means “let’s go,” and yet the set dragged on for a few more songs before the band finally left the stage.

    Clutch stayed gone for a good five minutes before finally heeding the crowd’s demand for more. And then the band played the best song of the night, an amped-up version of “Witch Doctor.” It’s hard to say who sounds creepier when repeating the lines “oo ee oo ah-ah, ting tang walla walla bing bang”—Fallon or Alvin and the Chipmunks.





For more pictures from the show, check out the Synthesis blog.

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