Clutch - Mercy Brown

I hope you’re wearing your groove trousers, readers. I mean it, because this week we are turning the style dial up to well above ten; probably to somewhere in the mid-thousands, knowing what Clutch are like. Hitting more home runs out of Maryland, USA than Babe Ruth himself, the band’s low and slow Southern-style charm mixed with their thumping brand of bluesy rock are simply irresistible.

If you’re new to Clutch, perhaps because the rock your neighbour lives under keeps getting copies of Kerrang meant for yours, let me fill in some gaps. Born in 1991 with three of the current four members (Neil Fallon would join when original vocalist Roger Smalls left a short time after the band were formed), Clutch picked a short, catchy name and then went on to write a million long, catchy songs. Probably best known for anthemic head-bobbers like Electric Worry and The Regulator, they’ve made a name for themselves thanks to their unique style and overflowing charisma. The fact they tour more frequently than a machine gun coughs up bits of metal is bound to have helped tremendously, also.

Onto our pick, then! Last year, the band released Sunrise on Slaughter Beach, an absolute thunderclap of an album that kept the good times rolling and the basslines infinitely danceable. For our money, the highlight of that was Mercy Brown, a masterclass in musicianship that combines Fallon’s magical song writing ability with that immediately recognisable earworminess that Clutch literally cannot do anything without. It pounds along without a care as to whether you want to think about any other songs that day because it’s a guarantee it will be lodged in your audio-processing meat irremovably. So go on, let go of the stress of the week right here and now (or after work, if your boss is allergic to a good time) by sticking this one on and jamming your little ears off. You’ll thank us for it later!