There’s a scene in Danny Boyle’s classic zombie film 28 Days Later that feels pretty prescient to our current moment in the United States. In the scene, Cillian Murphy’s character Jim is being held captive by a power mad group of British military officers. He listens as one of their fellow soldiers — who is also being held captive — explains to him that the rest of the world is going on business as usual and that the United Kingdom is the only nation enduring a zombie apocalypse because of their failures to effectively contain the spread.
When I spoke with Miles Harding the drummer of the fantastic new Melbourne punk band CLAMM earlier last month, a similar sobering wave came over me. Connecting over Zoom to chat about the band’s killer debut album Beseech Me, he told me about the pair of packed shows his band just recently played at a club called The Curtain Hotel just outside of Melbourne. You see, Australia was one of the first countries to welcome back shows in full force with bands such as Tame Impala playing a triumphant show at Perth’s Metro City Concert Club.
According to Harding, his band CLAMM played two sets at the 300 capacity room, each populated by 100 attendees. The band even brought along their friends Eggy to open each show.
I couldn’t believe my ears. “You played a show?” I asked. “How was it?”
Harding quickly realized he was talking to a stir crazy American being patched in from his stuffy winter bunker.
“I’ve buried my head in the sand a bit after keeping up with how America is going for a year,” he said. “I’m not really sure where you guys are at now with the whole COVID thing.”
Harding then moved to discussing the band’s return to the stage.
“We were pretty nervous, but I think the good thing is we had two sets,” he said. “So the first one, we blew off the cobwebs a bit and maybe it was a bit shaky and stuff, and then the second one, we really dug in and it was really fun. Once we got into it, it was just like playing a show.”
When hearing Beseech Me — arriving Friday via Meat Machine Records and streaming exclusively with Ears to Feed beginning Thursday — the songs beg to be heard at pummeling volumes in a live setting. A tight power trio, the band is led by guitarist and singer Jack Summers, with Harding on the kit, and for this record, Luke Scott on bass.
The racket that CLAMM makes brings to mind the best qualities of hook filled ‘80s hardcore marinated in a thick garage rock molases. Like if Minor Threat were just as obsessed with The Sonics as they were with Wire and Bad Brains. It’s a fuzzed out, paint-peeling combination that Harding never saw coming when he first got together with Summers to work on these new tunes.
Harding said the sound of the initial songs brought laughter to the group because it was “pretty rock and roll” and not very “punky.” However, he noted that the band has grown into its new sound.
“We’re loving it,” he said about CLAMM’s new sonic direction.
The hallmarks of classic hardcore are there, especially in songs like “Liar.” Summers barks his vocals as he takes aim at those who can’t be trusted with the band churning out riffs that would make Billy Childish’s mustache curl in delight. The band also addresses their hatred of careless violence in the album’s standout track “Sucker Punch” that reads like a call to arms in service of de-escalation. While it could also read as a comment on the Melbourne music scene, Harding assures the song is more about violence in general.
“I don’t think it’s a commentary on the Melbourne music scene because it’s quite an inclusive safe place, generally,” said Harding, “But obviously, there’s a lot of dickheads around everywhere.”
Song after song, CLAMM crushes along until they squeeze every bit of aggression out of the album’s 29 minute runtime. As a music obsessive dying to be unshackled and free to pogo like an idiot at shows again, I ask him if the band has made any plans to tour the record.
On the prospect of touring, especially in Europe, harding said he feels hopeful.
“They seem to think that we can potentially get over there [Europe] by the end of the year,” he said. “There’s things in motion, but who’s to know when we’ll actually get over there.”
Just before we logged off, I asked Harding — out of vicarious glee— what it felt like to have live music back in his life. I needed to know, no matter how deeply it hurt me inside.
“Oh no, it’s a total freakout,” he said, sensing my unwavering interest. “When they came back, I just went to every single show I could. And I pretty much just burnt myself out, ended up going to shows when I’d be hungover and just in a daze, and I could barely even sit and watch, you know?”
We all hope to know what that feels like. And as things begin to open back up here in the U.S., we will soon enough. When they do, I hope to be as sweaty and carefree as possible at a CLAMM show — rocking righteously.