Claypool Gold @ Salt Shed

Primus and Delirium and Frogs, oh my!

I keep a detailed database of all the live music I can recall having attended; it tells me that over the years I’ve seen Les Claypool play more times than almost anybody who isn’t in Phish. The current ‘Claypool Gold’ tour, however, throws a real monkeywrench into my reckoning system. My friend Jim and I were discussing it prior to the show: considering we’d be seeing sets by the Fearless Flying Frog Brigade, the Claypool Lennon Delirium, AND Primus, do we count this as seeing THREE Claypool performances, or just one?

As the members of the Frog Brigade sauntered onto the outdoor stage at the Salt Shed on Wednesday, there was a more pertinent question on my mind: is that Skerik up there at the saxophone station? He’d been somewhat of a question mark leading up to the tour; the bullboard (a long-standing Claypool fansite) was in an “uproar” about the possibility that he’d sit out another tour, having missed the first leg of the band’s glorious 2023 reunion jaunt. It was him, though—the same Frogs lineup, in fact, as that fall ‘23 leg of tour. If most fans had their way, ‘Claypool Gold’ would probably feature a much more heaping portion of Frogs; the beloved project had lain dormant for almost two decades and tends to be Les’s most improvisationally-adventurous endeavor, limited on this tour to just a half-hour time slot. Still, it was a choice selection of tunes, not to mention teases of “Mr Oysterhead” and “Southbound Pachyderm” and probably other things I’m forgetting. Plus, Les brought out Ler to play some geetar for “David Makalaster”, declaring “Cross-pollination is what we’re going for.” The interesting part for me was how much “Lust Stings”, a Claypool solo tune that debuted back in 2006 via what was then nicknamed “The Fancy Band”, sounded like a Primus song with Sean “Shiner” Lennon on guitar and Skerik’s treated horn tones.

Four songs and it was over, and then after a break that lasted less than five minutes, out came four of the same guys—these days, the Frog Brigade is simply the Delirium plus Skerik and Mike Dillon. The Delirium’s new album, THE GREAT PARROT-OX AND THE GOLDEN EGG OF EMPATHY, has a handful of songs on it that grabbed me more than the group’s previous work; I guessed correctly that “WAP (What A Predicament)” was a sure thing and was thrilled that “Troll Bait” also made the cut—in fact it was a highlight of the whole night. I was totally unprepared, though, for the star-studded “Astronomy Domine” that ended the set, featuring the night’s full cast of characters creating a glorious psych barrage. Sure, somewhere deep in my memory banks was the knowledge that the Delirium had released a covers EP with this Pink Floyd chestnut on it; I call this a silver lining to forgetting stuff. I’d take this over the entire ANIMALS album any day.

Following this 40-ish-minute set was a slightly more substantial intermission that ended with a short Les documentary. It’s always fun watching your musical heroes sing the praises of your other musical heroes, that’s for sure. I’m still mystified by the supposed tally of “5,000 shows” Les has played; even factoring in all of his many projects over the years it’s mind-boggling. And here he is, still performing at an incredible level, playing music like nobody else plays. Let’s face it, the man DESERVES a gold watch.

Primus the hallowed trio opened with “Harold Of The Rocks”, an overplayed yet beloved oldie. It always makes me think of my first Frog Brigade show, the Riviera Theater in 2001 (the Sno-Core Icicle Ball!), when they didn’t have their own songs yet and “Harold” was the lone Primus song of the night and thus a huge rush of band-fan energy. Next, one of two BROWN ALBUM cuts, “Duchess And The Proverbial Mind Spread”, which is becoming new drummer John “Hoffer” Hoffman’s signature tune. I wouldn’t say he had a great feel for the strut of “Harold” so this was a perfect call to gel the band. Hoffer is doing an admirable job with both Brain- and Tim “Herb” Alexander-era material, yet any longtime fan will have moments of missing previous drummers’ distinctive styles; time will tell if Hof can make an actual impression on Primus music, but I salute him for helping bring some deep cuts into the rotation if nothing else.

Next up was a tour debut of “Spegetti Western”, definitely a Hoffer showcase just in terms of its almost incomprehensible natural rhythm. It was truly cruel of Herb to come up with drumbeats like these and then quit the band (twice). I don’t know enough about the various intra-band beefs to take sides; I think for anybody to be in a band with a nutjob like Les Claypool you’d have to be a nutjob yourself, much moreso if you thought your will would legitimately challenge that of a singular creative force such as Les. Claypool Gold is many things, not least of which is to illustrate, ‘yes these are all MY chosen backing musicians’.

All the people onstage sure seemed to be having a blast, though. If anything, Claypool took fewer solos than we’re accustomed to; with limited time for each act, everybody got his chance to wow the crowd. The Primus set wasn’t jam-filled by any means, nor was it a greatest-hits run-through. I can’t claim to have my finger on the pulse of the wider Claypool fanbase, but the song selections certainly catered to my tastes, and that included the brand-new “The Ol’ Grizz”, a multi-section yet succinct odyssey that reminds me a little bit of “Mephisto and Kevin” (who remembers that one??? I once spent hours downloading it, always thought it was called “Gopher Boy”). Inconceivably, the other BROWN ALBUM tune of the night, “Bob’s Party Time Lounge”, was never played live until Hoffer joined the band; here’s hoping he can coax out “Camelback Cinema” some day!

The new kid seems to have also spurred a resurgence in “The Ol’ Diamondback Sturgeon”, a song I hadn’t heard live since 1994 and oh how sweet it was. There’s so much room for fiddling around throughout it and the set was in dire need of fiddling (figuratively speaking). Sadly, a few minutes into the song, someone in the crowd was in need of medical attention, pausing the music briefly as staff tended to the person. Such occurrences are more and more common at live shows; think of how often they probably should’ve been occurring all along, only there wasn’t technology to communicate and facilitate. We were nearing the end of the set, but Primus still managed a grand rendition of “Sturgeon” upon resumption, and next was “My Name Is Mud” which I think they’re playing every night. That could’ve wrapped the set up; instead, another one I was really hoping to hear, “Over The Electric Grapevine”. Now Skerik came back out (and possibly Shiner as well?); they took the outro jam of the song into a frantic, almost free-jazz climax and then ended it on a dime, as if to show us what they COULD’VE been doing all along.

It would be easy to look at Claypool Gold itself as a trio of teases: a tiny taste of Frog, a hint of a suggestion of the Delirium’s potential, a victory lap of Primus. It felt less and less like that as the night wore on, however. Naturally, when our heroes came back out for an encore, I was hoping for “David Makalaster II” to really tie the room together; I don’t think Les remembers this song exists any more, though. Instead, that song Tom Waits did the vocals for back in 1991: “Tommy The Cat”. I’ll never forget when they played this at the Riverside in ‘95, right in the middle of the jam they downshifted like magic into Pink Floyd’s “Money” for two measures and then BAM, right back into improv madness. I would say that was THE moment, in a night full of moments, when I spun around in my suddenly-slightly-larger world and thought ‘this is the band for me’. You might expect “Tommy” to be another overplayed hit but it’s really not; I go to see this band a LOT and it had been about 14 years since I last saw a “Tommy”. Maybe that makes the heart grow fonder, or maybe it’s just a really good fuckin’ song.

Les Claypool is, avowedly, The Anti-pop. Sure, he’ll still play “Wynona’s Big Brown Beaver” from time to time, but he doesn’t feel beholden to it any more than he does to “Jerry Was A Racecar Driver”. Still, as time goes on, and not without effort on his own part, Claypool is inching towards having a song that, if he doesn’t play it, a lot of fans are gonna feel as though the night is unfinished. It may never have been a hit but its hook is as indelible as any Claypool has ever come up with, the weird balance between haunting and soothing that’s his alone. “Southbound Pachyderm” is also Primus’s most storied live song, serving so many different functions in different eras of the band, a vital and living entity even during phases when the trio was in danger of becoming a pure nostalgia act. Again, it was the full cast of Solid Gold Wednesday Night in a joyous sendoff jam, driving home the point that no, we had not just witnessed a Primus show and two other separate Claypool sets; we had simply experienced our first Claypool Gold show.

I wouldn’t be too surprised if Les is wanting his fanbase to get used to the idea that touring in the future might be ‘me + whoever’s available at the time’. It seems almost inconceivable that the Primus canon in particular could be shuffled into the deck like that, not to mention Ler himself, yet despite my admiration for Hoffer AND the smattering of recent new Primus material, Herb’s sudden 2024 departure still echoes like a final whistle everyone’s ignoring. And that 2023 Frog Brigade reunion still floats in my memory like a dream come true. My pipe-dream vision for Claypool Gold was no specific announced acts; maybe Primus has to headline every night, but one night there might be a Sausage set, the next night it’d be Duo de Twang, maybe even Bob Cock & The Yellow Sock at some point? We’d pore over tour schedules trying to figure out which date might feasibly be the Oysterhead reunion, or hope to hit the jackpot somewhere with Bastard Jazz…

But what if the days of designation are ending? I can only get my head around it partially before I get dizzy; I’m not saying it’s what I hope for! But what if we started getting tours where Les would play two nice long sets, and anything was on the table? Any song in the Claypool cinematic universe. A preposterous notion if you think about Claypool’s approach to any given tour he’s done, yet I can’t deny the allure of it. At one point, Les was extolling the Cleveland experience from the night before (minus the bugs), to a smattering of boos from the Chicago crowd. He was taken aback, admonishing them in Claypoolian fashion. “You people booing—fuck off! We should be striving for unity!” he pleaded. It would be a beautiful gesture of anti-purity for him to abandon all distinction between his bands. I’m almost certain I could totally handle it.