When I told a friend of mine that there was a new Melvins album out, he replied to the effect that they release an album every fortnight. It's only a minor exaggeration. Melvins have become more prolific as the years have progressed, and their current work-rate makes The Fall look positively lazy.
While it's all too easy to throw in a few standard phrases about the band's trademark heavy Sabbath-inspired riffs, monster percussion and all the rest and thus fall into the trap of portraying Melvins as The Fall of sludge-rock, this would be to completely overlook the ways they so frequently confound expectations. There's long been an experimental edge to their work, and while not always entirely successful- I didn't so much feel let down as conned by 'Prick' - their releases in recent years (those that I've heard, which is most, but not all of them) have been fairly consistent, and rarely short of brilliant.
And so it is with 'The Bride Screamed Murder.' Opener 'The Water Glass' almost teases the listener by launching into one of those super-heavy trademark riffs, before going all native American. It's a trick! You think it's going to be a straightforward heavy rock number, but then... well, it's never what you expect.
There are dramatic, theatrical elements in abundance, with tribal percussion and changes of direction here there and everywhere, with elements drawn from many of the vast and eclectic acts they've collaborated. The near-schizophrenic approach to structure and style - switching at the most unexpected of times - is most reminiscent of Mike Patton's work. Small wonder, given that they've collaborated on a number of occasions, on various projects under various different names, and of course, Patton is the man behind Ipecac, a label that can be relied upon for off-the-wall releases.
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'I'll Finish You Off' is almost rock-opera prog, only with slow, deliberate drumming and massively grungy guitars that trudge along in the heaviest and most typical of Melvins fashions. In many respects, 'The Bride Screamed Murder' captures Melvins in a fairly accessible and commercial-sounding place, but such things are relative. However, the point is, had this album been released by a new, unknown band, it would have break them on an international scale as being exciting, innovative, heavy and experimental, yet listenable. Even the weirder moments, such as the plinky-plonky piano and weird squeaky sounds on 'Hospital Up' are contained, rather than drawn-out and indulgent.
The cover of The Who's 'My Generation' is played in a way only Melvins could get away with, or even conceive. Slowed down to about forty BPM and dragged, at a crawl, to over seven and a half minutes, it's barely recognisable, particularly the final four minutes of instrumental guitar drone and sludge. Genius!
Closer 'Pg X 3' couldn't be more contrasting, a largely acapella and gently melodic ditty... for the first half, before a reverb-drenched proggy solo guitar takes over, only to be finally replaced by feedback and then, ultimately, a non-sequential countdown to silence. It's hard not to feel a little perplexed as the disc spins to a halt. I rather suspect that's half the idea.
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