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Baroness / Clutch @ Regency Center SF, 7/22/09

by Brooks Rocco on Jul.23, 2009, under Reviews, Tour/Events

Maybe I’ve been to too many death metal shows.

Maybe I’ve been too funked by to much funk.

But when I see a band completely killing it, throwing their all into their music, the sound actually moving, I need to move myself.

More salsa!

More salsa!

That’s why I was completely flummoxed to see the four guys in Baroness exude more energy than the entire crowd at last night’s Clutch / Baroness show at the Regency Ballroom in San Francisco.

Granted, Baroness’ brand of progressive stoner metal (a bit of an oxymoron, yes) isn’t geared toward the uninitiated. Their syncopated grooves, shifting hits of time signature, and hoarse bellows from the more scenic areas of the underworld aren’t exactly crafted for your average rock and roll booze hound.

But it was still a shock to barely see any movement in the crowd for John Dyer Baizley’s poppy scented rock band, considering that Clutch’s terminally obsessed fans came out that night for big guitars, loud drums, and big balled howling.

Which, to be sure, Clutch later brought in spades. From the two vintage Marshall half stacks on the guitar side, to the giant kick drums and massive groove of Jean-Paul Gaster’s drum kit, Clutch screamed rock and roll, and the crowd adored their no nonsense jam.

I, on the other hand, need a bit of nonsense to keep my attention, which Clutch soon didn’t. I couldn’t help but thinking that if I owned my own bar, Clutch would be my perfect Saturday night house band. Or at least a good chunk of my jukebox would slosh in the beer soaked grooves they were throwing at the crowd.

But I’ve always had trouble sitting down to listen to a Clutch album. As good a singer as Neil Fallon is (and he most certainly is a fantastic wordsmith and howler), very rarely does he actually sing a real melody. And as good as a riff monster Tim Sult is (and he most certainly is a riff monster), he rarely plays anything that really piques my interest. He’s not a Tony or a Jimmy; he lays down a fat groove, but he doesn’t do it with the soul burning fire that a rock band this capable, this potent, should be secreting from every pore.

The mighty Baroness however, perhaps with that essential intensity of a young, talented upstart, threw out their all and probably won some new fans. But it’s going to take a little dulling of their musical razor if they want to really win over Clutch’s sycophantic obsessives.

Hopefully there’ll be an open bar at the next Clutch show.


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