Live Review: Clutch, Don Fernando

Having honed their craft here and abroad, Melbourne's Don Fernando proved visibly comfortable in front of a healthy crowd. Built on a foundation of fuzzed-out stoner-rock riffage and muscular grooves which the headliners would have approved of, they also packed a few memorable melodies. Some less distinguishable tunes ensured selected punters ventured to the bar instead, but were nonetheless politely, if not rapturously received.
“Long time, no see, baby – let's have a party… What do you say?” bellowed vocalist Neil Fallon at the outset. An appropriate rallying cry, but in reality, this crowd required little prompting to become enthused for Clutch's funky hard-rock, which boasted grooves wider than the Grand Canyon. Limbs flayed seemingly involuntarily, while booze flowed freely. Perennially bearded Fallon, looking somewhat akin to a pirate but possessing the soul of a grizzled bluesman and gusto of an evangelist indicated that age and experience have imbued his voice and presence with greater authority, even when spouting their most oddball stream-of-consciousness lyrics. Although the overall mix was a tad too quiet throughout, the ever-reliable rhythm section of Jean-Paul Gaster and Dan Maines, as well as axeman Tim Sult continued to be the ideal foil for their beloved bandmate.
Diehard Clutch followers readily acknowledge their setlists can vary, sometimes significantly; meaning few enter with many preconceptions in that regard. The first half borrowed liberally from classic rock-inspired latest disc Earth Rocker, the majority of said LP being aired throughout. The remainder fused nods to their formative years (Animal Farm), well worn favourites (widespread sing-along stomp of Electric Worry, The Regulator, Cypress Grove, Mice And Gods) and occasional obscurities (Sea Of Destruction). No frills and zero pretension but energy to spare was the Americans' allure, and an hour-and-a-half of pure, unadulterated rock fury was a fitting kick-off to Soundwave week.