Sickly sweet

Mudhoney

Since We’ve Become Translucent

Subpop Records

… Mudhoney

Since We’ve Become Translucent

Subpop Records

In a few words, this album is about being detached. It seems evident from Since We’ve Become Translucent’s lyrics and primitive style that Mudhoney’s 15 minutes are up, yet the band still trudges onward.

Mudhoney officially formed in 1988, as one of the founding bands on legendary Seattle label Subpop. Releasing eight albums since then, Mudhoney has never been radically different from fellow grunge rock giants Pearl Jam, Nirvana and Soundgarden. This band didn’t receive the same commercial recognition during the 1990s, mainly because they appealed to a more lowbrow crowd, with drunken onstage hijinks and a more caustic sound.

Translucent features longtime bassist Matt Lukin’s replacement, Guy Maddison, and horn arrangements by members of Fred, an avant-rock/free jazz group. These additions can’t save the album’s most tedious tracks, especially the difficult-to-get-past first track “Baby, Can You Dig the Light.” This song drones on for almost nine minutes, reeking of repetitive, desperate lyrics (“This is the end of the tunnel/And there is no light…” etc.) and wah-wah pedal abuse.

Guitarist Mark Arm’s vocals are as snotty as they were during Mudhoney’s “Touch Me, I’m Sick” days, which help to keep the album afloat. “Where the Flavor Is” shows the length of this band’s progression with its brass-tinged rhythms. However, without Arm’s sneering vocals, this track could easily be car-commercial fodder.

“Inside Job” and “Dyin’ for It” are two of the album’s best tracks, exemplifying the timeless value of catchy riffs and a steady, rollicking beat. Mudhoney even gets a bit subtle and self-referential with the album’s last track, “Sonic Infusion.” The lyric “they think we don’t exist since we’ve become translucent” is perhaps in reference to the lack of attention Mudhoney received over the years. The track later breaks into fuzzy guitar that sounds suspiciously like the beginning of The Stooges’ “1969” and mournful violinish distortion.

The album is neither as cruddy and unpolished as Mudhoney’s early work nor overproduced. There is something to be said for this band’s macho, hardheaded rock and roll: Mudhoney continues to stand its ground and plainly refuses to do what’s trendy.