The Melvins really have been around forever now. They have evolved, devolved, mutated, you name it, but Buzzo and whoever is in the lineup at any given time have remained true to the band’s roots. The fact there has been quite so much weird shit along the way is because, well, The Melvins. They really just do what they do, and that usually involves thick, sludgy riffs, a big bag of Sabbath inspiration, some twisted humour – some of which makes sense to average listener, a fair bit of which won’t, and… well. Here we are.
At this stage in their career, they’re unlikely to gain swathes of new convers with any release, or to break through to a new level of commercial success – they kinda did that, as much as they were going to, in the 90s, and despite the Nirvana association and signing to Atlantic, Melvins were never going to go stratospheric. Not that that’ likely to bother them, now, or ever. Unlike Nirvana, Melvins were never part of any kind of zeitgeist, and never have been. But the thing about fashion in, it comes and if you stuck around doing the same thing long enough, you’ll be in fashion at least once – maybe. And so really, the task when it comes to reviewing a new Melvins album is assessing where it sits in the oeuvre – whether it’s in the domain of ‘Osma’ or ‘Bullhead’, or if it’s more ‘Prick’ – or in that ‘meh’ range of ‘Working with God’.
‘Thunderball’ contains only five tracks and is a mere 35 minutes long – with a third of that given to the mid-album behemoth, ‘Short Hair With a Wig’.
Album opener, ‘King of Rome’ is a supremely succinct and supremely dirty, overloading blast of searing treble-blasting overload that goes all-in on a three-minute explosion, and the second track, ‘Vomit of Clarity’ goes way off-piste with birdsong and experimental noise that’s not really ambience, but creates a lull, a space before ‘Short Hair With a Wig’ thunks in with a dingy low-slung bass and a fizz of electronics, before going all out on the riff. It’s properly low and slow and thick… Melvins. Dominated by thunderous drums and a rumbling bass, when the riff breaks, it really breaks, and it’s killer. There’s some huge solo work in the mix, too.
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The last two tacks are hardly brief snippets, either, with ‘Victory of the Pyramids’ running past nine and a half minutes – and breaking out in a frenzy of indie excitement – before going full-on sludgystoner and the last track, Venus Blood’ expanding beyond eight.
It’s the low-end which blasts the hardest, and ‘Thunderball’ is big on riffs. 'Thunderball’ is top drawer, Melvins on peak form.
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