Any lingering doubts over Grunge’s demise are clarified, the place is only one third full. Thrush Puppies Manchester’s answer to Babes In Toyland, entertain mightily, guitarist Joolz describing the courtship habits of homo lager louts, and her Lorena Bobbit style response, whilst laying down gnarly guitar surge over Lolly’s raging drums, swapping insults and various fluids with bassist Antony. Loveable young pups, all of them.
Not a description that could be applied to Aussie grungers Cosmic Psychos who look more like the house band at an outback sheep shearing ranch, playing a too often, a one dimensional durgey set that recalls all of Sham 69’s worst moments. Not particularly inspiring and not particularly well received either.
Mudhoney ain’t a big draw anymore, nobody really gives a damn, especially the band, who just deliver the goods, and if you want to mosh, do a biker dances or just at them them that’s up to you. But few bands rock as convincingly as Mudhoney through. The latest ‘My Brother The Cow’ album’s put through it’s paces. ‘Generation Spokesmodel’, a vitriolic ‘Into Your Schtik’, ‘F.D.K.’ and ‘1995’ are outstanding. In addition we get a selection out of the archives, including a blasting versions of ‘This Gift’ matched by ‘Touch Me I’m Sick’.
Grunge be dead, but Mudhoney are happily stamping on it;s grave. Damn the entertainment. 8.3/10