Momentum has slowed, it’s safe to say, for the first Seattle band out of the grunge gate. And when a group’s heat has long cooled, is the resulting lull a hindrance to credibility (with disappointment leading to diminished creativity), or a freeing agent, leaving musicians beholden to no one—fans, label, themselves—and open to exploring both sound and emotion?
For vocalist/guitarist Mark Arm, the overall feeling at eight albums seems to be a gradual loss of self. “In my fucked-up gestalt/I’m a slug in salt/Losing its skin,” he slurs on “Inside Out Over You” before bemoaning the death of ’90s alternative rock on the title track: “The lucky ones have already gone down/The lucky ones are lucky they’re not around.”
It’s a front-loaded effort, toppling forward under its aggression and throbbingly raw riffage (the album was recorded in a mere three and a half days, after all) like a baby into a bucket, an image right in line with the dark ’n’ heavy vibe. But really, what else could be expected from the steadfast workhorses who refuse to go quietly into that great flannel shop in the sky? You want statements of defiance? “I’ve got new meaning,” Arm howls repeatedly in closing, implying that the lost skin was simply making way for a fresh coat of armor.
The bottom line: ***
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