Maybe it’s less than momentous to debut as a guest blogger with a group as well known as Clutch, but having been a longtime reader, it seemed to me that we were lacking in the angry metal department. The trouble with that plan, however, is that most metal sounds more or less like this to me:

After a very short amount of time, I tune out. Still, I’ve been taught that it’s unhealthy to keep my anger bottled up, and I often find myself in need of a good, angry, ass-kicking song. (Usually shortly after dealing with bureaucrats.) And so, for the good of you who might get a little angry now and then, I heartily recommend Clutch. After a few times through, allowing you to shout out obscenities and calm the fuck down, you’ll find that there are clever and often pretty amusing lyrics hanging out behind the scenes. I picked this one out in honor of a friend of mine who made a sculpture of a Redneck Samurai for some important gallery show or other. Seeing Clutch-inspired art just a couple of doors down from the Boston MFA was indeed a fine thing.

A Shogun Named Marcus

Clutch

Hardcore, hard rock, metal– I’m actually pretty clueless about exactly where Clutch falls in the spectrum, or even what the hell they all mean. Basically, what I’m saying is that I could see how some folks might overlook a group like Clutch, because, like me, you generally prefer snotty art rock and novelty songs. I’m here to tell you that even pretentious sons of bitches like Clutch.

And, as a reward for making it to the end of this post, here’s some snotty art rock and a novelty song, both about black metal. See, it’s a theme!

xoxo
W. B. Mook