Mudhoney Albums (8)
What The Critics Say
The Lucky Ones marks Mudhoney's twentieth anniversary as a band, and in those two decades they've evolved from the guys that first brought the Seattle sound to loser record collectors around the world into a living anachronism as the Last Grunge Band Left Alive. But The Lucky Ones is a telling album to release on Mudhoney's big birthday, as it's the simplest and most unadorned album the band has released since 1995's overlooked masterpiece My Brother the Cow, and also the best. While Since We've Become Translucent and Under a Billion Suns proved Mudhoney had lost nothing in the way of fire or focus in the Twenty-First Century, The Lucky Ones is a brave step backwards into the primitivism of Superfuzz Bigmuff, and though Tucker Martine's engineering and mix is cleaner and better detailed than what Jack Endino brought to the band's early sessions, the approach seems much the same -- roll tape and lurch into the songs with all the muscle the boys can muster, and when the band kicks into fourth gear on "The Open Mind," "I'm Now" and the title cut, this stuff comes on as raw and messed-up as anything Mudhoney has unleashed in years, and Steve Turner's guitar work is little short of feral. The twisted sense of humor that informed much of Mudhoney's "classic period" is in short supply, but Mark Arm's command of the verbal sneer remains unsurpassed, and when he bellows "the lucky ones have already gone down," its with the voice of the leader of the last gang in town. For good or ill Mudhoney remain bloody but unbowed, heavyweight champions of fuzz and feedback, and on the evidence of The Lucky Ones, no one with any sense is going to challenge their title anytime soon; they built this strange machine, and they can drive it better than anyone before or since. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Did anyone ever attribute much of a social conscience to Mudhoney back in the day when they were "The Guys Who Built Grunge"? All these years later, their outrage at the state of the world around them has finally reared its head on their seventh studio album, Under a Billion Suns. Don't worry, Mudhoney have not gotten goopy or sensitive, they've just found new things to snarl about that have a greater degree of political significance -- "Hard-On for War" is a rude but emphatic number in which you learn why "horny old men are always eager for war." The current era of conspicuous consumption goes under the knife in "Empty Shells"; "Where Is the Future" rails against the empty accomplishments of the 20th century, and "It Is Us" reminds all of who is really to blame. But while Mudhoney might be more eager to man the barricades in the era of Dubyah and Iraq, they thankfully don't sound a whole lot different than they did in their salad days -- in fact, Under a Billion Suns is one of the hardest and tightest albums this band has ever made. While there's just enough slop to assure you this is Mudhoney, and Steve Turner still has his collection of distortion pedals in good repair, drummer Dan Peters and semi-new bassist Guy Maddison have given these sessions a rock-solid backbone that has just the right amount of give but also pummels with impressive force, while Turner and Mark Arm lock their guitars with a precision they've rarely mustered in the past. Arm is also wailing like a guy half his age on vocals, and the horn section (arranged by Craig Flory) kicks the songs forward without getting in the way. The closing freak-out on "Blindspots" recalls the noise-damaged finales of the Stooges' Fun House and the MC5's High Time. In short, Mudhoney are rocking as well as they ever have on Under a Billion Suns, and have something to say while they're doing it -- could it be they're (gulp) maturing? ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
'Since We've Become Translucent'
Release Date 8/20/2002
Tracks 10
Label Sub Pop
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Yes folks, Mudhoney is back -- three years after the near-fatal one-two punch of Matt Lukin's resignation from the band and Reprise Records dropping the group from their roster, the founding fathers of grunge have shaken off the dust and recorded Since We've Become Translucent, which oddly enough sounds a bit like the adventurous major-label project the band never bothered to make for Bugs Bunny. Mudhoney still ranks low on the slickness meter on Since We've Become Translucent (the entire album was recorded in eight days), but the band sounds at once heavier and more confident than it did during its major-label tenure, and the addition of horns on three tracks (and violin on one) adds new textures to the classic Mudhoney throb without crushing the band's personality or spirit. (Don't fret -- the often atonal sax on the Stooges-esque "Baby, Can You Dig the Light" could have been pulled straight from side two of Fun House, while "Where the Flavor Is" is a raunchy slice of mutant funk in the manner of Exile on Main Street.) While Guy Maddison is in many respects a stronger bassist than Lukin was, he has the good sense to stay in the background where he belongs, and if Mark Arm and Steve Turner are playing less dropped-tune metalized riffs these days, this is still Mudhoney, and there's something gloriously unclean about the snotty "The Straight Life," the sleazy "Where the Flavor Is," and the menacingly anthemic "Our Time Is Now" after all these years. Since We've Become Translucent isn't always the Mudhoney you remembered, but the album clearly carries the stamp of the band's personality, and shows the group can still rock out while pulling a few new tricks from its collective sleeve. Nice to have you back, guys -- did you bring beer money? ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
On their fourth release for Reprise and seventh overall, Mudhoney show that they have absolutely no plans to mellow out in their old age. On Tomorrow Hit Today, the influential Seattle outfit harness their attack more than the full-throttle previous release, My Brother the Cow. Mark Arm still sings with all the attitude he can muster, while the others gleefully bash away at their instruments, creating tunes comparable to the enjoyable racket that the New York Dolls and Stooges laid down earlier. And it's very impressive that Mudhoney can still deliver true garage rock all these years later -- "I Have to Laugh" and the opening "A Thousand Forms of Mind" are classic Mudhoney stompers, and they mix it up with '60s surf ("Night of the Hunted") and blues-rock ("Move With the Wind"). Along with the Melvins, Mudhoney remained one of the few remaining Seattle originals, and Tomorrow Hit Today is one of their finest and most focused. ~ Greg Prato, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Mudhoney didn't invent grunge, but they were one of the first bands to truly define the style, and thanks to the bizarro-world logic that has defined their career, they seemed to loose interest in the stuff once you could actually make serious money playing it, ensuring that they wouldn't have to deal with the mainstream adulation that made followers like Nirvana, Pearl Jam, and Soundgarden into multi-platinum cash cows. By 1995, grunge's brief fling on the charts was pretty much over … just in time for Mudhoney to decide they liked the stuff again, and make the finest album of their career, My Brother the Cow. On My Brother the Cow, Mudhoney finally found a noisy middle ground where their fondness for Billy Childish and Blue Cheer could peacefully coexist, and the songs are less sludgy and more driving than their early classics, but with enough cheap stomp-box thunder to remind you of who's playing. A few years on the road had made Mudhoney a much stronger and tighter band, able to fully grasp the hard rock guitar figures they dearly loved to mock, but without falling into big rock pomp. And they came up with a dozen tunes that gave them plenty of room to sneer brilliantly (one of their greatest gifts), especially "Generation Spokesmodel," "F.D.K. (Fearless Doctor Killers)," and "Into Yer Shtik" (in which some nameless rock scene figure is advised to "blow your brains out too"). And as icing on the cake, the CD has the greatest hidden bonus track of all time. For better or worse, Mudhoney always played their game their own way, and they never played it better than on My Brother the Cow. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
By 1992, grunge was becoming rock's new Flavor of the Month, and Mudhoney, being the naturally contrary types that they were, seemed to be getting a bit bored with it; besides, after several years of roadwork, the band had gained enough speed and precision to allow the garage rock and old-school punk flavors to rise to the surface of their aural cocktail (or, more appropriately, their aural Trash Can Punch). Piece of Cake was the band's major-label debut, but you wouldn't have guessed that by listening to it; Conrad Uno's production is as no-frills as ever, and the short bursts of goofy noise and techno parodies that punctuate the album make it clear Mudhoney were taking themselves (and their career) no more seriously than they ever had. If those looking for the big shaggy sloppiness of "Touch Me I'm Sick" or "You Got It" might feel a bit let down by Piece of Cake, there's a snot-nosed fury to "No End in Sight" and "Suck You Dry" that makes it clear these guys were always a punk band at heart (albeit a punk band who really liked Blue Cheer), and if you're looking for heaviness, "Ritzville" and "I'm Spun" will convince you they hadn't forgotten how to drop that D tuning. Faster and fiercer than ever, but no less fuzzy or messed-up, Piece of Cake proved Mudhoney's palate was a few shades broader than some folks might have expected, but without turning their backs on the glorious ugliness that was always their stock-in-trade. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
'Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge'
Release Date 1/1/1991
Tracks 14
Label Sub Pop
See Album Tracklist and Review
What The Critics Say
Whether it was Conrad Uno's production, the addition of more instruments to the Mudhoney arsenal (notably, Mark Arm adds organ, as can be enjoyably heard on "Who You Drivin' Now," among other numbers), a slew of brilliant songs, or a combination of the above, Every Good Boy Deserves Fudge found Mudhoney coming into their own album-wise. "Let It Slide," the album's lead single, fuses everything from surf rock drumming from Dan Peters to a delicious vocal whine on the verses from Arm into a hotwired classic. It's not so much grunge as speed-freak energy, and all the better for it given the caricatures of Sub Pop's sound that would soon take over the airwaves. "Into the Drink" is another fun single, using acoustic and electric guitar to carry a nicely snotty garage stomp along, the full band adding one of their better chorus-gang shouts. More acoustic twang surfaces here and there (check out "Move Out"), helping to show that the variety of songs and styles is much more apparent and welcome here than on the self-titled album. The almost-pretty rushed guitar chime on "Good Enough" could be mid-'80s New Order or the Wedding Present, while Steve Turner's harmonica playing often suggests even deeper roots (and on "Pokin' Around" is both quick on the pace and sweetly mournful). Uno's eight-track production makes more of less plenty of times -- "Something So Clear" may not sound as full to some ears as their other records, but the basic guitar overdubs add just enough force, an effective simplicity (and Turner's soloing is pretty great to boot). The six-minute "Broken Hands" is the one point on the album where the band completely freaks out, but unlike the takes-too-long moments of Mudhoney, it's all worth it here, down to the final chaotic amplifier abuse. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
What The Critics Say
Mudhoney's first self-titled album came as a bit of a disappointment after the group's initial singles, and from the distance of over a decade it's even more of a sore thumb in the band's extensive discography. It's good, to be sure, but not great; the essential spark of the band got a bit lost over 40 minutes, where in three minutes' space the quartet could be the best act on the planet. Then again, arguably Mudhoney was trying to figure out how to make a full album work with their sound, and if it's not a perfect listen as a whole, there are still some great songs to hear. Jack Endino's production lives up to his reputation for rough, thick recording, but he's left just enough for the songs to breathe, whether it's the audible handclaps on "This Gift" or the quirky guitar riff leading into Dan Peters' rollicking drum rolls on "You Got It." "When Tomorrow Hits" is easily the sleeper hit of the record; later memorably covered by Sonic Boom in the dying days of Spacemen 3, its slow, dreamily threatening build shows off the band's ability for subtlety amidst the volume. "Flat out Fucked" about sums up the whole ethos of the album -- careening pace, compressed feedback roar, and Mark Arm's desperate but never self-important singing resulting in neo-garage rock anti-anthems. About as good is the brilliantly titled instrumental "Magnolia Caboose Babyshit," which gives Steve Turner and Arm a chance to show off some crazy acid rock/proto-funk guitar that avoids sucking, always a pleasure. A couple of draggy numbers and others that take a good idea but almost run too much with it ("Come to Mind," well, comes to mind) keep things from fully working, but next time out Mudhoney would have the perfect combination down. ~ Ned Raggett, All Music Guide
