Mudhoney-Vanishing-PointIt’s a strange thing that a band can inspire an entire musical movement, yet still remain firmly under the radar. Mudhoney are one such group. With 1988’s legendary ‘Superfuzz Bigmuff’, they helped create a subcultural monolith that would become known to us squares as ‘grunge’. However, whereas bands like Pearl Jam, Nirvana and Soundgarden would grace the covers and get the plays, Mudhoney would have to be content with the bittersweet role of scene godfathers – revered by a few, ignored and misunderstood by many.

Having perhaps drawn the shorter straw, no-one could begrudge the band for retiring in a haze of bitterness, but credit where it’s due, Mudhoney don’t really seem to mind. They’ve got more pressing concerns than mass acceptance, making music being priority number one. In 2013, they’ve now reached the quarter of a century benchmark, and ‘Vanishing Point’ (the band’s ninth album) is another fine addition to an admired and respected body of work.

Kicking off with the acid-rock of Slipping Away, we immediately hear that time may have changed Mudhoney, but it hasn’t tamed them in the slightest. Driven by Dan Peters’ momentous drumming, the band create a cacophony of obnoxious noises, centred around extended guitar solos, yelled vocals, chugging basslines and fuzzy, grungy riffs. Slipping Away is rough, dirty, jam-centred rock n’ roll, like it used to be. A great start.

‘Vanishing Point’ impresses again with the extremely weirdly-titled second track, I Like It Small. It’s brilliant, Iggy and the Stooges-esque garage rock with a goddamn catchy chorus and some very fine guitar playing courtesy of Steve Turner – a definite highlight. Chardonnay is pure 1980’s punk, harnessed from the grimy basements and venues of the American suburbs. The track provides the album’s most offbeat lyrical moment in an album full of offbeat lyrical moments, as vocalist Mark Arm continuously shouts “I hate you Chardonnay” into the ears of the unsuspecting listener. By the end of the track, there is little doubt that he really doesn’t like Chardonnay. The words won’t find their way into many poetry anthologies, but who cares when it’s this fun.

Musically speaking, Mudhoney are a resolutely stubborn bunch and their obstinance can work in their favour, but sometimes it gets a bit too much. What To Do With The Neutral is a strange little track that perhaps should have been left on the cutting room floor. Douchebags On Parade can’t quite live up to it’s spectacular name, meandering about without going anywhere particularly interesting. ‘Vanishing Point’ could have done with a slight bit of editing, but I suppose that’s all part of the Mudhoney charm – play it, and see if it sticks. And even if it doesn’t, play it anyway and put it on the album, because at least it’s honest, and that’s what counts.

As they enter the twilight of their career, it’s about time we gave Mudhoney some credit – for putting all their eccentricities and strangeness on show, and never shying away from themselves; for the sheer dedication shown to their craft; for not growing old gracefully; for inspiring kids like Kurt Cobain to try out the guitar. This is a group of musicians whose central purpose in life is to make noise and lots of it, there’s no doubting that. Not without it’s flaws, ‘Vanishing Point’ is a great, fun old-school rock album and deserves a thorough listen. Just don’t go expecting any acoustic moments.