Claypool Gold Brings the Weird to Boston
Frog hats and cowboy boots aren’t a combination you see every day, but they felt perfectly normal at Leader Bank Pavilion last Wednesday night. As fans poured into the venue for Claypool Gold, it quickly became clear this wasn’t going to be a typical concert. The crowd was just as colorful as the music they had come to see, with longtime Primus fans mixing with followers of Les Claypool’s many other projects for an evening that celebrated every corner of his musical universe.
Claypool Gold isn’t built around just one project. Throughout the night, fans got sets from Les Claypool’s Fearless Flying Frog Brigade, The Claypool Lennon Delirium, and Primus. Instead of feeling like three separate performances, the show felt like a journey through many different sides of Claypool’s career.
Fearless Flying Frog Brigade kicked things off with a psychedelic, groove-heavy set that had people moving almost immediately. The crowd wasn’t standing around waiting for Primus. People were dancing, nodding along, and fully invested from the start. The Claypool Lennon Delirium followed with a set that felt a little more experimental and unpredictable. That’s always been part of the appeal of the project. Just when you think you know where a song is headed, it takes a completely different turn.
What stood out to me most all night was how much fun everyone was having. You could tell who was there primarily for Primus and who was there for the full Claypool experience, but by the end of the night it didn’t really matter. Everyone was dancing together. Everyone was smiling. Everyone seemed completely content to let the music take them wherever it wanted to go.
By the time Primus took the stage, the energy inside the pavilion had built into something special. Familiar bass lines echoed across the venue and the crowd responded immediately. The people who had spent the earlier sets swaying and vibing found another gear, singing along and celebrating songs that have become staples of Claypool’s catalog. It felt less like a traditional headlining set and more like the payoff to a night spent exploring every corner of Claypool’s musical world.
I’ve photographed a lot of crowds over the years, and this might have been one of the happiest I’ve seen in a while. Nobody seemed interested in standing still or looking cool. People were dancing in the aisles, showing off their frog hats, and fully embracing the wonderfully weird atmosphere that surrounded the entire evening. It felt like a community gathering as much as it felt like a concert.
Most artists spend an entire night showcasing one band, one album, or one era of their career. Les Claypool somehow managed to showcase several decades worth of music in a way that never felt repetitive. Each project brought something different to the table while still feeling connected to the larger experience.
As the crowd made its way toward the exits, frog hats still bobbing through the sea of people, it was obvious that nobody had come looking for a normal concert. They came for an evening of incredible musicianship, a little bit of chaos, and a reminder that music doesn’t always have to fit neatly into a box. Claypool Gold delivered exactly that.
