Mudhoney
Superfuzz Bigmuff plus Early Singles

I mean, did I click wrong, or is there still no review of Mudhoney on Debaser?? Well, okay, I'll take care of it now... we can't just sit idly by watching a new generation praise horrible… well, let's say debatable bands like Vines, Jet, Hives, and the like, who don't know the true meaning of the word Garage. Sure, I could also go back and talk about the Stooges, but that would ultimately be banal and, above all, difficult, so I'll talk about Mudhoney.

First of all, Mudhoney is Seattle; in other words, Mark Arm, guitar and screams, was part of Green River before the Mud Honey, you get it? One of the first wild, ultra-distorted formations of what someone later wanted to call "Grunge". Who else but Mudhoney could be Seattle? They packaged Mudhoney way back in 1989 with the first anthem and then the first great record of a generation. And they also had the good taste to name that album after one of the wildest and most ferocious guitar effects ever created: that slothful, redundantly greasy, dirty, and creamy fuzz that goes by the name of Big Muff. Because they were like that too: wild and unrestrained, greasy and rotten.
For a few years now, Sub Pop has been shooting out Superfuzz Bigmuff in a special edition with all the early 45s of the guys, an absolute masterpiece. And if you want the first single, that terrifying anthem called "Touch Me I'm Sick," you can find it in a 45 version for just $7.50 on the Sub Pop website. And I assure you that not only the content but also the cover is well worth the purchase: a close-up print of a toilet bowl and nothing else. Simply genius.
"Touch Me I'm Sick" is the opening of Superfuzz Bigmuff in the new guise; a terrifying garage that's not just a reinterpretation of '60s experiments, but becomes a dark, awkward, and violent soundtrack for a much more disillusioned generation; the story of an AIDS patient. The B-side is no less: "Sweet Young Thing Ain't Sweet No More" is blues steeped in a shroud of distortion and psychedelic slide reminiscence but with a visceral and pessimistic attitude that makes it unique, and beyond the "vintage" appearance, also terribly current; two dirty jewels. The other great masterpiece of the 45's section is the cover of "Halloween" by Sonic Youth, imagine it a little less ethereal than the original, but in compensation more tribal, desperate, and heavy (in the sense of "heavy"), almost if possible superior to the Bad Moon Rising version. The actual record is almost always just as sickly fascinating: from mournful ballads like "If I Think," to distorted outbursts like "No One Has" or "Need," the latter almost more Husker Dü than Detroit.

Mudhoney weaves the history of rock over the last 25 years, though obviously neglected in sales. Visceral and brutally sincere, their frenetic violence is more a necessity than a choice, almost as if their music were a spontaneous extension of their soul; an attitude, if one can speak of attitude, that in the end is the most beautiful thing that Seattle rock has given us.