Locals Only Artist of the Month: Mudhoney

May 3, 2013
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Seattle has long been a frontier town that attracts musicians who want to invent and reinvent – from Jimi Hendrix to Kurt Cobain to the next unnamed musical star. While the sound may change from decade to decade, the Northwest’s music scene is as vibrant as ever. And here at The End we feel it’s important to help put our homegrown talent in the forefront by giving you a taste of our cities musical richness.

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Every now and then, a combination will go beyond “appropriate” or “good” and result in something that forever alters the universe. Just imagine a world without chocolate and peanut butter, Doc Martens and a leather jacket, Beavis and Butthead, and of course, Mudhoney and Sub Pop. April 2013 marks the 25th anniversary of both Mudhoney and Sub Pop Records, and there could be no better band to represent the label, past, present and future. Nirvana, Saint Etienne and Fleet Foxes are swell, but no other group has consistently kicked as much ass as Mudhoney, nor has anyone come close. Through two and a half decades, sarcastic grins remain implanted on their grizzled faces, even as empty bottles and the sneakers of a stage diver fly inches from their heads.

Along with this milestone celebration, Mudhoney have bestowed Vanishing Point upon us. It’s not their first album. Or third. Or seventh. Vanishing Point is Mudhoney’s ninth studio album, a truly remarkable feat for any band, but almost statistically impossible in their case, as we are talking about a band whose 1988 debut Touch Me I’m Sick b/w Sweet Young Thing Ain’t Sweet No More was such a volatile and desperate single that it’s miraculous the band made it through a weekend, let alone another year. In an age where only the newest of the new can survive (and even then, only for a few weeks at best), what could the decades-old Mudhoney have to offer? What could they possibly have left to say?  The answer is plenty.

Real uninhibited rock music is harder and harder to locate these days, but Mudhoney make it easy for you, not just by being the flagship band of the greatest record label in the history of recorded time, but by writing songs that stick in your head long after your body has been buried. Vanishing Point isn’t just another entry in their impressive catalog, but the modern-day rock ‘n’ roll lashing we all deserve. As usual, Mark Arm says it best, as in “Sing This Song of Joy”: “I sing this song of joy / for all the girls and boys / dancing on your grave…”
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