Mudhoney Articles
Dusted
October '02
Not Enough Mudhoney
Mudhoney - "Since We've Become Translucent"
Mudhoney, who last I heard were effectively broken up and parted with a
major label, have rather unexpectedly returned to the fray with a new album,
and a new bassist, on their old label, Seattle stalwart Sub Pop. Since
We've Become Translucent finds Mudhoney settled into a middling garage-y
choogle that brings to mind MC5's final album, except less urgent, and lacking
the sloppy tear-up-the floorboards energy that characterized Mudhoney at their
peak. It's a strain to come up with a comparison less general than to say
Since We've Become Translucent brings the band closer to the generic
template of sixties classic rock than they have ever been – characterized by
being male dominated, occasionally sexual, occasionally rebellious, sometimes
vaguely psychedelic, with buzzing guitars and crashing drums which in theory
are intense but which in practice do not serve to propel anything substantial.
The vaguely psychedelic part is most evident in the album's opener "Baby, Can
You Dig the Light", a song whose content would have been generously served by
a length a third of its actual eight and a half minutes. An extended intro of
feedback and saxophone bleats resembles a watered down Flipper, leading to a
repetitious vocal turn from Mr. Arm (I like the sound of that – even if you don't
like Mudhoney, you have to admit the frontman has a fantastic name). When the
Stooges recorded an epic this droning and pointless, "We Will Fall", it was
because they came to the studio without enough songs to fill their first album,
but since it was their debut as musicians, it's easy to forgive them. Its less
forgivable when a similar song is the introduction to an album by a veteran
band – when they should be slamming lead pipes into your splintering shins,
they're muffling your head in cushiony synthetic foam instead.
The problem with Since We've Become Translucent is that it doesn't measure
up to the standards Mudhoney set with the undeniable gripping music they produced
in their heyday. They were the nineties' best equivalent to the Stooges in snot-nosed,
mocking aggression – and since they are an excellent band, a fall-off in quality
(or possibly a temporary misstep, a definite possibility since this CD was produced
after years away from the studio as a band) does not indicate a terrible album, or
one that is painful to listen to, just one that is ultimately unmemorable. In a sense,
it's reassuring to know that Mudhoney are still around and standing, considering
they've been through the meat factory of major label stewardship – and although
they've retained a few battle scars from the experience (alluded to in lyrical
content of the new songs), they haven't come back from whatever shit storm they've
been through with an album likely to excite anyone but the faithful. Which is not
a pleasure to report. There are things to enjoy here – "In the Winner's Circle" and
"Take it Like a Man" are pleasing, and gain considerably from the droll/bitter tone
Mark Arm has been refining for the previous decade, and the violin coda on the closer
"Sonic Transfusion" is nice, although the song grinds unmemorably. It's disappointing
to hear Mudhoney come across as a shadow of their former self.
By Mark Hamilton
