A month or so ago I had a conversation with a friend wherein my rock-loving buddy lamented the fact that, generally speaking, the Foo Fighters are hailed as the “best we’ve got right now.” What he was attempting to express was some variation upon the declaration that “rock is dead,” but of course, rock isn’t dead, at least not wholly. No, rock isn’t dead so long as Jean-Paul and Tim and Dan can continue to whip up variations on a groovy pentatonic theme, nor could it ever die so long as Neil Fallon walks the stage, spouting forth clever wordplay in a baritone half-shout.
Rock may not be as popular as once it was, but it isn’t dead so long as Clutch rocks the earth. Everybody get the message.
Psychic Warfare is Clutch’s eleventh studio album in their nearly twenty-five years of existence, and stylistically, it doesn’t deviate much from the stoner-groove template laid out across the past half-dozen discs. But then again, why would it? If it ain’t broke y’know…
So, yes, this is bluesy, jammy rock’n’roll, all catchy in riff and chorus, and built upon grooves wide enough to hold battleships. Coming after the brief spoken-word intro of “The Affidavit,” the proper opener “X-Ray Vision” is prime Clutch, the album’s first single, and as good a track as they’ve ever released. Sult drives a simple and brilliant riff home, whilst Fallon shout-croons through some strong lyrical couplets in a noir-ish tale of someone holed up in a dingy hotel room, awaiting further direction from unnamed controllers. It’s just perfect rock brilliance – the kind of thing that you’d be accurate in saying has been done before, but never done like this, not quite, and very seldom done this well.
From there, Psychic Warfare stays predominantly strong, although a few tracks aren’t perfect – “Noble Savage” is decent, but not amazing, as is Fallon’s tale of his neck surgery a few years back, suitably titled “Decapitation Blues.” Still, those tracks are certainly solid, and only really pale when surrounded by the near trad-metal mastery of “Behold The Colossus” or the ripping “I have bad taste in women” discourse of “Sucker For The Witch.” (The former track is straight-up kick-ass, while the latter track is more typical Clutch, but does get some bonus points for describing one such witch as “some brand of Stevie Nicks.”) “Son Of Virginia” closes the album on a slow note, the bluesiest of the bluesy jams on-hand, and though it’s not my favorite, and overshadowed by the similar but better and earlier number “Our Lady Of Electric Light,” it’s effective enough.
Where Psychic Warfare does differentiate itself slightly from earlier Clutch-ers is in Fallon’s lyrical slants, here focused more on first-person stories, albeit ones still delivered with the science fiction / hyper-literate approach he’s long favored. Ultimately, even as tight and great as the band is, Fallon is Clutch’s not-so-secret weapon. I hold him as one of the finest lyricists in rock, as clever as any rock writer has ever been, though I’ll admit that more than a bit of the time, his twists and plays elude me. And as good as Psychic Warfare is – and it’s great, as I’ve mentioned – I don’t think it’s his finest hour on the lyrical front, even with some successes like “Sucker” and “X-Ray.” The past few records have just been so great lyrically that Psychic Warfare seems a bit less developed. For once, at the end of the day, the battle goes to the band itself, to the riffs and the grooves and the melodies, always stellar but even then, often topped by some super-clever turn of phrase that I’d give… something really valuable to… be able to… think. (Yeah, see, I can’t do it. Damn you, Fallon.)
Still, that’s a minor quibble, and one I’m more than willing to overlook without further thought as I play this album repeatedly ‘til the next one arrives in however many years. In the pantheon of recent Clutch, Earth Rocker and Robot Hive and Blast Tyrant are certainly better – and I think Strange Cousins From The West may be better, and the same with Beale Street – but Psychic Warfare holds its own, not far behind, and well ahead of the damned Foo Fighters…
… because Clutch is the best rock band in the world right now, and you better believe it, brother: Psychic Warfare is real….
