Where is my love? Cat Clyde howls, opening her new album ‘Mud Blood Bone’ with abandon. Can’t find my love? It’s not the somber lament of a longing woman, but a feral eruption, the roar of an animal on the edge. Her voice crumples with dismay, a swampy croon over romping keys. I got a hole in my chest / I can’t take the emptiness / Where is my love? It’s the essential question of ‘Mud Blood Bone,’ a void eleven frenetic songs sizzle to fill.