Set to release their 10th studio album, Earth Rocker, Maryland hard rockers Clutch are stopping at Revolution in Ft. Lauderdale on May 10. Fellow Maryland-based band Lionize and Austin, TX, heavy rockers The Sword, who released the critically-acclaimed LP Apocryphon in October, will open for Clutch. Tickets are $21 and go on sale on March 1.
Weird show. For me and for them. For me, in part, because circumstances thrust me into the role of professional photographer — which I am not (see photos after the jump). I’ve never had to capture as many as 10 bouncing humans in either low or psychedelic light within a strict Live Nation-mandated time limit (three songs). I also had to deal with the unfamiliar protocol of the press-pass-carrying photographer, which included having to remove my equipment (camera, lenses, bag) from the premises after the three-song time limit or face something akin to extraordinary rendition by Live Nation. If I’d known that, I might not have parked half a mile away in a seedy city parking lot. I ran fast enough by a cop on my way back to the show — which I really didn’t want to miss any part of — that the Gal in Blue definitely thought I’d knocked off the nearby McDonald’s.
Weird for them, Broken Social Scene, because the acclaimed Canadians find themselves in an awkward place for indie rockers (as the following mixed metaphoric terminology suggests): somewhere between underground and mainstream. This weird, interstitial positioning manifested itself architecturally in Revolution Live, the not-so-big, not-at-all-small Ft. Lauderdale venue BSS played last night. In a 2003 interview following the release of the out-of-nowhere, approaching-perfect You Forgot It In People, BSS founding members Kevin Drew and Brendan Canning (who I interviewed on Tuesday) said they wanted to ultimately push past the club and record-store shows to play capacious “soft seaters”. Who could blame them? I mean, the band’s own size (seven to the n members) makes playing big venues a financial imperative. But the kind of crowd a venue like Revolution draws — one die-hard fan for every three foot-tappers, four arm-folders, and five “Who’s playing and when can we dip out to Los Olas?”ers — puts a ceiling on how good the show can be of more or less the same height as the actual height of Revolution’s ceiling.
Breaking through to the heavens is unlikely, is what I’m saying.