Melvins are unquestionably a hugely influential band in their own right, but they’ve always been exceptionally generous in their acknowledgement of their own manifold influences. Their staggering career has been littered with covers and references, with their love of Kiss being an enduring theme (from the series of ‘solo’ EPs, complete with ‘Kiss Army’ inspired inserts to the versions of ‘Love Thing’ that appeared on ‘Ozma’ and ‘Going Blind’ on ‘Houdini’). Their collaborative works are also manifold, from ‘Pigs of the Roman Empire’ recorded with Lustmord, to the myriad contributors who featured on the ‘Crybaby’ album.
‘Everybody Loves Sausages’ is their first proper covers album, though, their first attempt to pay tribute to the artists and the songs that have, in various – and often obscure – ways contributed towards shaping the Melvins sound. Looking down the track-list, there are some that stand out as being unlikely choices, to say the least. But then, this is Melvins. The only thing you can expect is the unexpected where they’re concerned.
Many of the songs on here are surprisingly faithful to the originals – by which I really mean they’re still recognisable. But a ‘straight’ cover in the hands of Buzzo and co sounds like Melvins, and there’s no mistaking them, even when they don’t sound like Melvins. If you catch my drift.
It’s a roaring sludge metal rendition of Venom’s ‘Warhead’ with vocals from Neurosis’ Scott Kelly that fires the album off to a suitably explosive start. It’s not only a straight cover, but easy to see how the sound of Newcastle’s proto-black metallers influenced the megalithic, dirgy riffs that would become Melvins’ trademark. Especially in the early years. Play ‘Warhead’ at half speed and you’ve got the template for ‘Ozma’.
The cover of Bowie’s ‘Station to Station’, with J G Thirlwell on vocals is a real standout. That Thirlwell is a genius requires no real qualification, and the magic that blooms from putting him and Melvins together was established with ‘Mine is No Disgrace’ and here, the result is eleven minutes of solid gold.
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Elsewhere, Queen’s ‘You’re My Best Friend’, which features Tweak Bird’s Caleb Benjamin, is an appropriately accessible piece of skipalong pop with a campy glam styling, and Divine’s ‘Female Trouble’ is gritty and groovesome, while dirty great powerchords slash though the ultra-fast speed rancho version of ‘Black Betty’ which is hilarious and brilliant in equal measure. The chances are you really haven’t heard anything like it. Then there’s their nine-minute take on Roxy Music’s ‘In Every Dreamhome a Heartache’, which is as unexpected as Fields of the Nephilim’s version (which has long been one of my all-time favourite unlikely covers). It’s eerily haunting and not only features Jello Biafra delivering a great Brian Ferry impression, but explodes just the way it should.
The Jam’s ‘Art School’ is given a raucous, rough ‘n’ ready dirty punk treatment, and with assistance from Tom Hazelmeyer it ends up sounding more like The Anti-Nowhere League. But so fuckin’ wot? It’s Melvins, and it’s brill, not least of all because they’ve done exactly what no-one would have ever expected, as usual. It’s immediately followed by a sinister electro rendition of Throbbing Gristle’s ‘Heathen Earth’. The two styles should be just too disparate to sit comfortably side by side, but the sequencing of this insanely eclectic covers collection is comparable to a cleverly compiled mix-tape. And that’s why we love Melvins even more than sausages.
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