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Mudhoney
Tomorrow Hit Today
(Reprise)
HAIL, THE MIGHTY Mudhoney. Saviors of the Seattle rock
scene (yeah, that's right--a big screw-you to vastly overrated
Pearl Jam), Mudhoney returns after three years of inactivity with
the magnificent Tomorrow Hit Today. Its garage-heavy dose
of balls-out rock and mid-tempo power sludge places these four
booze-swillin' grubworms back on top of the decimated grunge rock
heap. It's all here, kids: The anguished, snarling howl of Mark
Arm; Dan Peters' thud-heavy drumming; Matt Lukin's rumbling bass
grooves; and the wah-wah fuzz romp of guitarist Steve Turner.
What's more, new instruments beckon a graceful turn toward maturity:
Generous helpings of organ, slide guitar, harmonica and keyboards
are provided by Memphis über-producer Jim Dickinson (Replacements,
Cramps, Rolling Stones). "This Is the Life" sounds suspiciously
like mentors Iggy and the Stooges circa 1969, with Arm and Turner
establishing the best fuzz guitar interplay since they first stumbled
across a Ron Asheton-endorsed effects pedal. "Night of the
Hunted" would fit easily next to one of Billy Childish's
home-recorded garage efforts if vintage Nirvana were his backing
band. "Ghost" sizzles with the dead junkie souls of
the New York Dolls; perhaps prescription-damaged inspiration for
Mudhoney reflecting on being once Ritalin-addicted toddlers. Mudhoney
are truly the last torchbearers of full-fledged grunge rock hedonism.
Get down on your knees and be thankful.
--Ron Bally
Like Minds
Gary Burton, Chick Corea, Pat Metheny, Roy Haynes and Dave
Holland
(Concord Records)
LOTS OF CROSSBREEDING going on here: Burton and Corea have
recorded duet albums; Metheny got his start in Burton's band;
and Metheny has led a trio featuring Haynes and Holland. No wonder,
then, that the disc is fine stuff, and a legit companion volume
to Burton's Reunion from 1990. All but one of the 10 tunes
were written by either Burton, Corea or Metheny, thankfully avoiding
that dreadful tendency in jazz to attempt wringing blood from
the long-dry bones of '40s standards. In fact, the three frontmen,
because they're as solid in their writing as their improvising,
make this a disc hardcore jazzers will either snag now, or grab
as a four-star reissue two decades into the next millennium.
--Dave McElfresh
Dr. John
Anutha Zone
(Pointblank/Virgin)
THE INDEFATIGABLE NEW Orleans-reared swamp-blues hepcat,
Mac Rebennack (a.k.a. Dr. John), is back with his coolest and
tastiest album in years with Anutha Zone, a spicy, hot
gumbo of spacey Crescent City R&B vibes, extraterrestrial
gris-gris mysticism and spooky voodoo-inspired rhythms. After
battling drug addiction and weathering several erratic years of
indifferent work (like goofy television commercial jingles and
faux-sentimental ballads--remember the sappy duet with Rickie
Lee Jones?), pianist Dr. John has reinvigorated his good-time,
rollicking Big Easy musical muscle by hiring a choice crop of
altrock movers-and-shakers, including various members of Supergrass,
Portishead, Spiritualized and Primal Scream. Adding another element
of hipster-cool authenticity to the crawfish pie is the mercurial
Paul Weller, frontman of early '80s mod-punk icons the Jam. Weller
adds steely background vocals and razor-sharp guitar lines to
the poignant, bittersweet ballad "Party Hellfire." A
melancholy reminder from the good doctor that too much Mardi Gras
action will lead down a path to spiritual destruction and eventual
death. What sets Anutha Zone apart (besides Jason Pierce's
textured "space guitar" washes) is Dr. John's renewed
songwriting prowess; a gift that shines brightly on "Sweet
Home New Orleans," where he finally acknowledges his funky
down-home Louisiana roots with long overdue zeal. Wacky '80s new
wave keyboard stud Jools Holland (ex-Squeeze) bangs out some ultra
funky Shaft-era Hammond organ riffs on "I Don't Wanna Know"
(written by folk great John Martyn). Dr. John's gritty, emotion-drenched
baritone rekindles his psychedelic Night Tripper persona, a potion-bearing
medicine man brought to life on the classic '70s albums Gris
Gris and Gumbo.
--Ron Bally
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