Review: Melvins – Thunderball
It’s not controversial to say that Melvins, now 40 years deep, had been on a dull run of form for a while there. From 2008’s Nude With Boots, Melvins had a 15 year run of consistently dry, mostly unheralded records, highlighted in spots by some oddities. It’s interesting because in terms of live performance? It was a great time to be a Melvins fan, with their long-term link-ups with Big Business and Jeff Pinkus breathing a lot of life into their sets. In terms of their actual records, though?
Well, as is typical of Melvins, it was 15 years of variety, from the scattershot covers of Everybody Loves Sausages, the weirdo noise rock of Tres Cabrones, the harder-edged Basses Loaded, to the irreverent rock of Working With God. It was a busy time for Melvins, but their LPs were dominated by this sense of being inessential, like just as much would have been achieved if they’d been live albums or comps released in their place. 2024 proved to be a big turnaround in quality for them, though. A trio of really solid records, namely the really fucking good Tarantula Heart—complimented by the two solid collabs with Napalm Death and Boris later in the year—generated the most buzz Melvins had had in a long time. It was the best spate of Melvins material we’d seen in over a decade, and Tarantula Heart was easily their best record since Nude With Boots.
Thunderball ostensibly continues the sludgy, off-kilter sound of Tarantula Heart but the album is much more hard rock in its roots, with nothing on the record being particularly harsh or abrasive by Melvins standards. That describes a lot of their best records, though; for their reputation as pioneers in sludge, metallic hardcore and general low-end extremity, Melvins are often at their best when they just sound like KISS on quaaludes. Opener and lead single “King Of Rome” is the definition of a rocker, with a lot of surprising melodic flair from Buzz in addition to his trademark raw, rhythmic style of playing. It’s probably the closest you could get to the band doing a typical modern rock lead single, and occasionally has some subtle electronic dabs, particularly before the drums kick in and during its chorus. It’s a really excellent track, in the tradition of a lot of their biggest songs like “Hooch” or “Revolve.”
Thunderball got some buzz for having the “original lineup” of Melvins back together, though its impact is a bit lessened because Mike Dillard has recorded with the band a a few times over the past decade, notably on Basses Loaded and Working With God. More prominent are contributions from Void Manes, who most recently collaborated with Melvins on their Throbbing Gristle worship record Throbbing Jazz Gristle Funk Greats. They call back to that Throbbing Gristle influence pretty weakly on “Vomit Of Clarity,” which is honestly just a tedious ambient interlude. It’s the type of thing Buzzo has been crazy about popping onto Melvins records for decades now, but it’s so meagre and ineffectual here. You listen to their Lustmord collab or something and it’s apparent just how listless it is. Neither meditative nor brooding, as if it’s just filling space.
That listlessness continues through to “Short Hair With A Wig,” a track that’s moody and spacious but ultimately really doesn’t do much. So much of its runtime is dominated by Buzzo’s vocals straddling atop a thin bass and drum mix; it’s just lacking in both heaviness and atmosphere a lot of the time. The production really just cuts the track off at the knees, and that’s the story for a lot of Thunderball’s weaker moments; Melvins here work against themselves, and there’s a pronounced flatness to everything. A meandering riff fades away to fizzing, digital bubbling during its ending, with a ring of guitar distortion hinting towards a drop that nevers comes. Less of a tease and more of an anti-climax.
The introduction of “Victory Of The Pyramids” is a big shift, tonally: faster paced, major key riffing, wilder drumming, it’s the most free sounding the record has been so far, reminding me of a more long-form Orange Goblin song or something. The pace becomes a bit lethargic once the track settles into its groove, and I think that’s emblematic of a lot of Thunderball‘s problems. For as excellent as it starts and ends, its core can be so goddamn plodding. The moments where it breaks from mid-tempo comfort seem fucking electric because they inject the track with some life. Melvins are at their best when the unhinged tension of their music is briefly resolved in violent explosions—even as far back as Ozma you hear this.
Thankfully, “Venus Blood” is the track that understands this best on Thunderball, with a sinister, creeping muted riff that builds pressure only to burst into brief, open chord respites. It’s the percussive high-point on the record too, where the syncopated drumming is skittish and nervous. It’s classic Melvins, showing their potential for excellence even 40 years deep into their career, and bookends the record with its best two songs.
By starting and ending strong, Thunderball still manages to leave a good impression overall despite its more hollow core. While not at the level of last year’s Tarantula Heart, I still think it represents a good direction for Melvins, since at its best it shows they haven’t lost their aggression, edge and bite after nearly a half century. Jesus.
3/5 Flaming Toilets ov Hell
Thunderball is out now on Ipecac Recordings.
