Clutch finally coming to New Zealand

"Apologies for being so tardy on our arrival", announces Neil Fallon. The front man for Maryland rock group Clutch is excited about finally connecting with New Zealand fans.

"You know we're going to bring the show that we play across the world - it's an hour-and-a-half of straight up rock and roll."

To say Clutch fans are keen is a bit like saying New Zealanders quite like rugby. And finally, after 19 years, the New Zealand chapter of the Clutch church will get the chance to bow down; to pay respect to one of the world's great live rock acts.

Clutch formed in 1990 and have been prolific album producers, building a cult following in New Zealand where fans have only ever seen internet footage of them.

Now, for a band with a formidable reputation for live performances, that's about to change.

Clutch, who have produced nine studio albums, are coming to New Zealand for the first time in February. Ferocious front man Fallon along with guitarist Tim Sult, Dan Maines on bass and drummer Jean-Paul "J P" Gaster are more than ready for their one-show-only stop in Auckland.

"We've been talking about (coming to New Zealand) for many, many years so this is a big thrill for us," Fallon says.

Clutch fans are known for their near-fanatical devotion to the band.

Fallon appreciates the underground following the group has cultivated over the years but tries not to analyse it.

"I think maybe it's because we do a very particular thing. We are what we are and people tend to cling to it. There's a level of sincerity to the music that people kind of latch on to."

The band is known as a "live" band. It's a label Fallon embraces.

"For us performing live is what a band should do.

"I think records and videos and the like, those are kind of periphery. I think it takes a lot longer to build up a fan base through word of mouth but I guess it's sort of like the analogy that you can build a house out of sticks really quick, or you can build a house out of rock."

The band's sound has always been difficult to describe. Fallon says he understands the need to put the group in a category but he shies away from the 'stoner rock' label that is often dragged out.

"We call it rock and roll. The bands that are called stoner rock all hate being called stoner rock. We're no exception, because it kind of insinuates that you have to be high to get into the music, which is not the case.

"People who don't know my band - like the postman, who asks me what I do for a living - I tell him that I'm in a hard-rock band."

And being front-man to a band described by NME magazine as "beardy blues-smiths" who on their latest album Strange Cousins From The West "bring the thunder of Mighty Thor" is a full-time job. Fallon says success is easy to define.

"For me success is being able to dedicate 100 percent of my energies to music.

"Gold records and Grammys are all well and nice but at the end of the day you've got to be content with the music that you make.

"Popularity is nice but I also got to keep in mind McDonald's is the biggest restaurant in the world, but that doesn't mean they make good food."

Clutch's epic touring schedule allows them to get closer to their fans than most bands, with many die-hard disciples following them from gig to gig. Fallon's apocalyptic lyrics and the band's passionate intensity are the drawcards.

His lyrics delight and confuse listeners and it's no surprise that fans dissect them to find hidden messages.

"A lot of times I write something and I know it sounds good but then I ask myself `what exactly are you trying to say here?' and I don't have that answer.

"I think the subjectivity that the listener brings to the lyrics is kind of the entertainment value of the lyrics. But I don't think I'm smart enough to come up with secret meanings, if I can come up with one that's good enough."

It's obvious to Clutch fans which song encourages the most debate.

"The most prevalent one is 10101 (off the 2005 album Robot Hive/Exodus).

"I didn't realise there was this whole scene of people that were into binary code - I guess like uber-computer geeks - and some folks had really kind of run this thing through programs and thought it represented some kind of geometric form.

"Really it was just a completely random generation of numbers that I came up with while we were jamming a song."

But Fallon enjoys the questioning and probing of his wordplay.

"It's fun. There's no right or wrong I mean even though I wrote the lyrics I don't consider myself the authoritarian expert on the subject.

"I would rather that people do that than just kind of treat them as disposable 'oh baby yeah I love you yeah yeah yeah', those things are dime a dozen."

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