Melvins
(A) Senile Animal

The fourth cycle begins. Everything repeats, but better and better.

Let's skip over the first ramshackle period; let's avoid the soap operas with four strings coming and going; let's set Ozma as the starting point or the first motionless cycle of the plumpest duo in experimental rock. From there onward starts a study of riffing and song form that will generate various schools of thought and execution, culminating in experimentation with the incomparable (in a sector-specific historical context, of course) Lysol. After that, second cycle: an album of songs. Houdini. Aided by Cobain, okay, but still there is - albeit relatively - success and even a Lollapalooza.

From there onward, they navigate by channeling into a single product an unblended flow that includes components like songs in the proper sense of the term; alienating, uncategorizable experiments. From the frying pan to the fire, only to return to the frying pan, without changing the record: simply skipping.

Up to the meeting of the King with the Tony Capuozzo of Eureka - aka the Diego della Palma of Crossover - who revolutionizes his perm by inserting him into one of the most deviant projects that can be listed. He signs them to his then-emerging label, subsequently slotting their - umpteenth - four-string player, hailing from the cows, into a whimsically Christian-religious-reptilian nature. And already here the plot thickens. SweetHalfCrover, obviously can't be left behind. Due to a trucker he'd married, he embarks towards regions of completely opposite latitude from Kingexperimental. Musically returns 30 years back, but strong with the experience matured from Ozma to Lysol. He borrows musicians from his wife, grabs any instrument that comes to hand: Altamont. Having entered the vicious circle of stoner, he can't pretend not to be a drumstick idol in that circle: Men Of Porn. Now Porn (Men Of).

And here we are, history repeats itself: just for a change, they tell the four-stringer to piss off (by now it's their favorite sport) - they take in a great, truly a great good guy from Big_Business. And no one knows why, maybe not to make him feel lonely, they grab the drummer from B_B as well. Crover's touch is among the most majestic, precisely damaging and well-calibrated in circulation, but let's be honest: he has never been an octopus with two thousand strokes (you can't hit so hard and pretend to make 9000 hits per second). So they share the cake: Dale pounds like he knows how, Willis refines with snare rolls and pierfrancescoconpatate.

October 10, 2006: history repeats itself. A new album of songs - s o n g s - by the Melvins.

Clearly, and I repeat clearly superior to the previous one. Technically excellent, masterfully produced, and without overindulging in illness. As if to say: perfect. Even, to settle the matter, they add a (The) to the now historic name. The first album by (the) Melvins, or the 32nd by the Melvins. Or even the sixtieth - about - work where you can find the two coolest plump guys in experimental rock. Count it how you like; see it how you like; take it.