Review by Rachel Jablonski
Here I am, sitting in front of this white page, preparing to write about one of the best albums I’ve heard so far this year and I am at a complete loss. A complete loss! In my head I hear the fun lyrical rhythms and solid musical grooves. The sound is bright, the music colorful, the instrument and vocal intricacies well pulled together. But, despite the ease I have in writing other reviews, the fantabulous, multifaceted new Clutch album, Robot Hive/Exodus, is difficult to truly bring to life in words. Bass driven, rhythmic, and upbeat, Robot Hive/Exodus is simply a feel good composition bound to be infectious.
Bouncy guitars, typically upward on the musical scale, give most songs a jaunty feel certain to please. The opening track, “Incomparable Mr. Flannery,” is one such case. A strong, upbeat guitar flourishes during verse, heavy bass laying extra emphasis on the last few notes of the riff. The chorus breaks into a more fluent vibe, this time flowing down the scale, notes seeming to connect rather than jolt. Great beats and sundry tempo accompany first-rate grooves and expressive vocals throughout the entire album. The tone of Robot Hive/Exodus is pure and authentic amidst varied musical styles.
Rock based, blues based, gospel based elements drench the album. The Hammond Organ, regularly used throughout the disc, gives off a special flavor resulting in splashes of gospel rudiments. This perspective enlightens reference to the “Exodus” portion of the album title as well as reoccurring religious verbiage.
Lyrics often seem random yet paint a solid picture, often keeping with inexplicit theme. Ain’t no doubt Jesus sees us acting foolishly on American Band Stand, the lyrics say in “Gullah,” while also making reference to the Hindu god, Vishnu, and the Hindu goddess, Kali. The power of the Holy Ghost comes to town, Clutch vocalist Neil Fallon sings in “Burning Beard” over quick tempo rock music. Indiscriminate religious references like these continue throughout the album. But, despite the dominate rock feel of most, it is the track called “10,000 Witnesses” that has the most definite gospel influence. The song does have organ in the background, but the vibe is most created through the hey uh huh huh chant along with a corresponding tambourine.
Science and futuristic notions seem another prominent lyrical theme. Very discrete organ and great rhythmic grooves of “Mice and Gods,” perhaps the best track on the album, illustrate such references fairly bluntly. Engineer the future now, damn tomorrow, future now! Throw the switches; prime the charge, yesterday’s for mice and gods. “Never Be Moved” also makes mention of similar ideas with Read the future a false haruspex (a religious specialist who foretells future events from examining slaughtered animals). And scientific references could not be blunter than as in another primo track, “10001110101.” The title itself is scientific as it is meant to indicate a binary number. But it doesn’t end there. Ribonucleic acid freak out, the power of prayer long halls of science and all the lunatics committed there. Robot Lords of Tokyo Smile taste kittens, the song proclaims along with single words like sector, vector, periodic table, radioactive.
At other times still seemingly random lyrics throw out recognizable pop culture. “Incomparable Mr. Flannery” makes note of the bands REO Speedwagon, Kansas, Boston, and Dokken. “Burning Beard” notes CNN and N.O.A.A radio. “Land of Pleasant Living” throws out names like Dom Perignon, Johnny Walker Red, Yuri Garagin (the first man to travel in space), and the Yankees (as in the New York baseball team presumably).
The album wraps up with two covers, “Gravel Road,” a very energetic folk, bluesy, organ-filled interpretation of the song by Mississippi Fred Mcdowell and the gospel/bluesy “Who’s Been Talking?” by Howlin’ Wolf.
The diverse musical styling, album themes, and authentic tones that make up Robot Hive/Exodus have made it one of the best albums this year. The experience is rich, compounding, and expressive. But, listen, my attempt to describe no where near gives Clutch’s Robot Hive/Exodus due justice. Don't be at a complete loss, just buy the album and indulge.