Claud Has a Soft Spot for Dallas

Claud came to jam out this past Friday at Dallas’ most cherished venue: Club Dada. I showed up fashionably early (since I’m incredibly committed to coverage) when only a few people were dawdling around. A frog sat atop the amplifier, staring out at the soon to be lively room.

At 8PM on the dot, the opener, Lutalo, ambled on the stage alone with his guitar. He looked out into the crowd and began to play. In true Club Dada fashion, there were a few sound complications in the first song. However, by the time the second song, “Warned Her,” rolled around, it was sailing smoothly. Lutalo, who hails from Vermont, self-described his first project (Once Now, Then Again) as leaning into acoustic rock while his second project (AGAIN) is a lot grittier. It fit his voice very well. His coarse folksy sound mixed with a strong understanding of the guitar was the star of the set.

In the break between sets, a whirlpool of fundamental pop songs played over the speakers. “Style” by Taylor Swift, “Party in the USA” by Miley Cyrus, and “Since You’ve Been Gone” by Kelly Clarkson set the mood for Claud. Although the crowd was intimate, again in true Club Dada fashion, you could tell everyone there was hyper-invested in the artist. The crowd tightly gathered around the stage, inching forward as the time passed. I was fully expecting the crowd to be full of teenage queer girls, but I was pleasantly surprised by the demographic spread. The more I looked around, the more I realized that the play was about me! There was a variety of people in their twenties holding onto the stage in the front row, a family of 5 with 3 picturesque young children standing near the open porch, and couples scattering in the back.

When Claud and their band, consisting of bassist Molly Kirschenbaum and drummer Ross Wallace Chait, entered onto the stage, the crowd was ecstatic. Claud is a Chicago-based, bedroom pop, nonbinary artist formerly known as Toast. Of the first few songs, I particularly liked “Guard Down,” which had a certain live vibe that was unattainable by audio track. Claud ended the song with a quick “nothing like a Texas summer” riff, noting that it was significantly harder to serenade to the Oklahoma City crowd due to their ostensibly longer name. They immediately made their stage presence known by engaging in interactive conversations with the audience – chatting about their previous tour stops in Dallas, their hotel stay in Waco, and their next song. They turned on the self-described voice modulator named “Gender” to sing “Climbing Trees.” It was futuristic and inflected, but it brought a fresh style into the mix of ballads like “Tommy” and fast-pop songs like “If I Were You.”

One thing I particularly noticed from this concert was the sheer amount of stage presence and audience engagement. Claud would talk about bald men, genetic inheritance, Chipotle parking lots and even Subarus to give a synergetic backstory to a song. While Claud is talking to the crowd, the band consisting of Kirschenbaum and Chait would riff in the background. The crowd got especially excited as Claud pulled out the harmonica and played the beginning lines of “betty” by Taylor Swift. The power of Claud covering Taylor Swift was immeasurable! I was personally excited for the performance of “That’s Mr. Bitch To You,” a fast and furious pop rock piece, though I was worried about the young children given the sheer amount of expletives in the short 2-minute duration.

As the night started to wind down, Claud sat down at the keyboard to perform their most beloved ballad: “Wish You Were Gay.” The consistent Club Dada problem of nearby club music leakage was especially prominent during talking breaks this set; however, the soft sound of the keyboard was able to drown out the loud dance music as the crowd stared dazzlingly at the artist on stage. Though there were a few trials and tribulations throughout the concert, the night was a victory. Claud ended the night with the fan favorite song “Soft Spot” and graciously left the stage without need of an encore.