Post by Smallstone on Nov 29, 2007 10:35:40 GMT 1
Check this review out - it sums up pretty well where Mudhoney are at the moment. Playing better than ever, almost last dudes standing, 20 years in with a new album in the can. A friend of mine - who hadn't seen the band play since the early 90s caught them in Chicago a week or two ago and mailed me to say how incredible they were and how it 'went off'. Personally looking forward to next year a lot.....
seattlest.com/2007/11/19/as_hard_and_fuz.php
Last month, in response to a push to "reconsider" old Mudhoney songs, we said that the band never made it big because they sounded more "rough and fuzzy" than the Big Four (Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Alice in Chains). We said that singer Mark Arm's style--as well as the band's--was "not bad, just different." After witnessing Mudhoney's transcendent assault on El Corazon Friday night, we'd like to propose a reconsideration of the band itself.
What made Mudhoney different from those huge bands--whether it was a product of laziness or calculated laid-backness--is exactly what saved them from becoming another post-grunge flameout. In fact, the band--Mark Arm, Steve Turner, Dan Peters and Guy Maddison--seem to have thrived while keeping a grip on the fringe. (They've also, perhaps not coincidentally, returned to home label Sub Pop.) At El Corazon, the foursome not only looked comfortable tearing it up for the packed, trashy little club, but completely content with that reality. And they sounded incredible--the nearly 20 years since Superfuzz Bigmuff neither tempering their fierceness nor polishing it to an over-practiced gloss. They blew us, and everyone else, away.
Contributing to the incredible blast of this one-hour set--punctuated just about every 180 seconds with another shout-along fave--was the club's sound, which we'd always thought was sub-par. Not only could we hear every jagged hitch from Turner's guitar (and Arm's; he also riffed through most of the show), but Peters' snare-heavy kit pounded cleanly and Arm's signature grating, almost-scream was articulate enough for Seattlest to catch lyrics we hadn't heard on the band's albums. (One typically ironic sample from a song, it turns out, played live for the first time: "The lucky ones have already gone down. The lucky ones are lucky they're not around.")
Also surprising was the number of mohawks, tattoos, black leather jackets and silver spikes in the energized crowd. (The show was a benefit for the family of Vaccine frontman Slim Jack.) The hardcore bunch not only made for excellent window dressing, but for dutiful moshing. We hadn't seen this crowd phenomenon in years, and the pit-thrashing folks at El Corazon brought it back with zest--and, uniquely, courtesy. Shoves were administered with smiles; hops were executed with perhaps a hint of dainty style. These punks were happy. They collided with each other happily.
Songs spanned Mudhoney's under-appreciated two-decade career, from very-much-hoped-for "Touch Me I'm Sick" to "Suck You Dry" to Under a Billion Suns' darkly hilarious "Hard-on For War." It couldn't correctly be called a greatest-hits set since "hits" would honestly be an overstatement, but every crunchy, flare-hot song was, to everyone at this show, huge. And we'll speculate that the crowd, in turn, meant much to Mudhoney. During one late-set jam, Arm simply stood there, silently surveying the place with those hyper-expressive, giant-irised eyes. Grinning.
Grunge stardom be damned. Mudhoney's alive, still making great records and kicking the shit out of their catalog. We can't wait to see them again.
seattlest.com/2007/11/19/as_hard_and_fuz.php
Last month, in response to a push to "reconsider" old Mudhoney songs, we said that the band never made it big because they sounded more "rough and fuzzy" than the Big Four (Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden, Alice in Chains). We said that singer Mark Arm's style--as well as the band's--was "not bad, just different." After witnessing Mudhoney's transcendent assault on El Corazon Friday night, we'd like to propose a reconsideration of the band itself.
What made Mudhoney different from those huge bands--whether it was a product of laziness or calculated laid-backness--is exactly what saved them from becoming another post-grunge flameout. In fact, the band--Mark Arm, Steve Turner, Dan Peters and Guy Maddison--seem to have thrived while keeping a grip on the fringe. (They've also, perhaps not coincidentally, returned to home label Sub Pop.) At El Corazon, the foursome not only looked comfortable tearing it up for the packed, trashy little club, but completely content with that reality. And they sounded incredible--the nearly 20 years since Superfuzz Bigmuff neither tempering their fierceness nor polishing it to an over-practiced gloss. They blew us, and everyone else, away.
Contributing to the incredible blast of this one-hour set--punctuated just about every 180 seconds with another shout-along fave--was the club's sound, which we'd always thought was sub-par. Not only could we hear every jagged hitch from Turner's guitar (and Arm's; he also riffed through most of the show), but Peters' snare-heavy kit pounded cleanly and Arm's signature grating, almost-scream was articulate enough for Seattlest to catch lyrics we hadn't heard on the band's albums. (One typically ironic sample from a song, it turns out, played live for the first time: "The lucky ones have already gone down. The lucky ones are lucky they're not around.")
Also surprising was the number of mohawks, tattoos, black leather jackets and silver spikes in the energized crowd. (The show was a benefit for the family of Vaccine frontman Slim Jack.) The hardcore bunch not only made for excellent window dressing, but for dutiful moshing. We hadn't seen this crowd phenomenon in years, and the pit-thrashing folks at El Corazon brought it back with zest--and, uniquely, courtesy. Shoves were administered with smiles; hops were executed with perhaps a hint of dainty style. These punks were happy. They collided with each other happily.
Songs spanned Mudhoney's under-appreciated two-decade career, from very-much-hoped-for "Touch Me I'm Sick" to "Suck You Dry" to Under a Billion Suns' darkly hilarious "Hard-on For War." It couldn't correctly be called a greatest-hits set since "hits" would honestly be an overstatement, but every crunchy, flare-hot song was, to everyone at this show, huge. And we'll speculate that the crowd, in turn, meant much to Mudhoney. During one late-set jam, Arm simply stood there, silently surveying the place with those hyper-expressive, giant-irised eyes. Grinning.
Grunge stardom be damned. Mudhoney's alive, still making great records and kicking the shit out of their catalog. We can't wait to see them again.