A lot of rock bands lose their edge over time as age and success dull the fire that ignited the music of their youth. Luckily, even after thirty-five years and eleven albums, Mudhoney is as angry as ever. On the politically charged Plastic Eternity, vocalist and songwriter Mark Arm directs that anger at those destroying the environment, at the media, at right-wingers, and at anyone else who drew his ire during the pandemic.
While the band normally writes songs by jamming together, the isolation of the pandemic and bassist Guy Maddison moving to Australia forced the Seattle alt-rock pioneers to assemble the songs by more of a piecemeal method.
Perhaps that’s the reason for some unexpected moments, such as the creepy soundscape of “Souvenir of My Trip” that’s more fitting for a horror movie than a rock album, and for the robot-like vocoder in “Plasticity.”
The album’s biggest surprise is that it ends with a tender love ballad, “Little Dogs.” Not a tongue-in-cheek pseudo-sappy song, but a legitimate love ballad for Arm’s four-legged friends. “I take delight in the joy they get from sniffing on a log,” Arm sings over gentle acoustic strumming a clean, reverberating lick. “In these times of trouble, I love a little dog.”
Amid the surprises, there are still plenty of songs that sound like classic Mudhoney. Guitarist Steve Turner cranks up the fuzz for the anthemic “Move Under.” His crunching riffs and bending licks anchor the song about combating political misinformation. “You gotta dig deep, down to the core of those false beliefs; undermine the foundation of the lies that they repeat,” Arm wails.
The anti-capitalist “Human Stock Capital” hits with vicious riffing and Dan Peters’ frenetic drumming as Arm compares “essential workers” who went back to work during lockdown to livestock. “They’ll work you ’til you drop; you’re just human capital stock,” he yells over the power chords.
Lyrically, the album is far from subtle. And the lyrics at times derail songs that could otherwise be good, as with “Flush the Fascists.” The repetitive synth groove is catchy enough, but it’s hard to take a song seriously that has so much toilet humor. “Dropped the toothpaste in the toilet bowl; got my papers, now I’m on a roll,” Arm sings.
But most of the album is able to overcome Arm’s on-the-nose lyrics. Turner’s nasty riffing and the propulsive rhythm turn “Here Comes the Flood” into a raucous diatribe against Fox News and the anti-vaxxers who championed Ivermectin as a COVID cure. “What’s inside us that’s making me squirm? There ain’t no virus; it’s probably just worms,” Arm sings, referencing the horse dewormer. “I’m a man, I’m a horse; I’m man enough to let nature run its course,” he sneers.
The band takes on climate change with “Cry Me an Atmospheric River.” It sounds like a Jimi Hendrix song played by a punk band and it works well as the outlet for Arm’s fury. “You make me stronger ‘cause you just can’t stop polluting,” Arm sings, from the perspective of the weather. “It doesn’t matter to me what happens to the humans.”
Never shy with their political activism, Plastic Eternity is a battle cry for those who share the band’s beliefs. For those who don’t, it’s still a fun alternative album that channels political fury into a fiery collection of aggressive rock.
