Every so often, a new Melvins album shows up in the wild, sometimes without anyone knowing it was coming. After more than 30 albums, one could expect diminishing returns from such a prolific catalog, but the Washington rockers have mostly avoided missteps. As pioneers of the grunge and sludge metal movements, the Melvins have crafted an iconic sound usually recognizable from the first few notes of Buzz Osbourne’s grimy guitar. Still, the band has never been one to rest on its laurels. If anything, the prolific output is a symptom of the band’s insatiable need to experiment and find new ways to harness the sounds within the Melvins’ formula.
This brings us to Tarantula Heart. Typically, the Melvins enter the studio with all of the songs already written. This time around, they recorded many jam sessions and then picked out the parts of those jams that should be fleshed out into songs. As a result, the songs feel a bit looser than usual.
Another curveball comes via drummer Roy Mayorga (Ministry), who joins founding drummer Dale Crover to thicken the sound with twice the drums. The band has played with double drums before, most notably on 2006’s excellent (A) Senile Animal, but this is the first time the drums came at the beginning of the songwriting process.
The album begins with the nearly 21-minute “Pain Equals Funny,” a song that makes up nearly half of the five-track album’s runtime. In the epic song, riff-master Osbourne throws tons of guitar sequences at the wall, and most of them stick. Osbourne shifts from mid-tempo accessible alt-rock to a palm-muted chug that sounds like the strings are caked in mud. The punishing rhythm dissipates, and Osbourne plays an improvised fuzzed-out psychedelic solo over a freestyle groove. Another crackling riff and guitar solo follow and trail off into ghostly feedback wails.
“Working the Ditch” begins with nearly a minute of feedback and start/stop drum fills before the main growling guitar riff takes over. A gothic texture permeates the trudging metal. “It was a dark time for us, the right to seize the power,” Osbourne shouts in a menacing drone. “Reach out and say you need me; remain an enemy.”
In terms of drums, “She’s Got Weird Arms” is the album’s masterpiece. Crover and Mayorga lay down a punishing rhythm that sounds even more brutal when contrasted with the twisted, discordant guitar melody that sounds like a song from a children’s show on acid. “Someone will find us or hide us. Nothing I want,” Osbourne sings cryptically.
It’s one of those intentionally obnoxious Melvins songs with a tongue-in-cheek melody meant to irritate rather than soothe or excite. The band has never taken its music too seriously, and there are many bizarre moments in Tarantuna Heart.
If the music of “She’s Got Weird Arms” sounds like a twisted cartoon theme, then “Allergic to Food” sounds like a B-grade horror movie. Layers of guitars from Osbourne and Gary Chester (The Asteroid) meld aggressive punk riffing and a spectral lead lick with a frantic drum beat. The vocals are belted in atonal shouts, and the whole thing seems perfect for ambient music in a haunted house.
“Smiler” ends the album with the most straightforward song. The hard-rocking anthem hits with the ferocity of some of the band’s heaviest metal tracks and serves as a reminder that the band can still produce some of the best mosh-pit music out there.
Whether it was the new recording process or something else, Tarantula Heart is messier than most Melvins albums, and it doesn’t have as many great hooks as fans are used to. While it doesn’t hold up to the band’s best albums, there’s plenty to enjoy for those who like the band’s quirkier side.
