Melvins: Too Weird to Die

While many still cling to the myth of Seattle as the epicenter of grunge, the truth is that the so-called "big show" was, to a large extent, a manufactured maneuver designed to overshadow the far more powerful Los Angeles scene. But the Melvins never fell for prefabricated labels. Their punk attitude and unbreakable spirit kept them out of the mold—and out of Seattle. And because of that, they’re still standing, towering like true monsters of the American North.

Now, part of the band returns with Thunderball, a new album that—if you count all their official releases—brings them astonishingly close to the 30 mark in their discography. A number that doesn’t just demand respect, but confirms their tireless ability to reinvent themselves.

Buzz Osborne and Mike Dillard are behind this new chapter. The absence of Dale Crover may concern some fans, but it’s well known that he’s currently focused on other projects. Dillard, meanwhile, isn’t some last-minute replacement: he’s a longtime friend of Osborne and a founding member from the original 1983 lineup. His return is rooted in camaraderie and the desire to maintain a raw, spontaneous energy—the same force the band also channels live with Steven McDonald, Coady Willis, and occasionally Crover himself.

For Thunderball, Osborne and Dillard teamed up with two names from the experimental electronic scene: British artist Ni Maitres and American producer Void Manes. The result is as brutal as it is unexpected.

Yes, Crover’s absence is noticeable. But one listen is all it takes to realize Thunderball is no minor work. It’s abrasive, sharp, and sonically charged—fitting perfectly within the most daring corners of the Melvins’ catalog. It dives into their most experimental side, shamelessly flirting with electronic noise while paying tribute to titans like Throbbing Gristle and Merzbow.

The album kicks off with “King of Rome,” a furious punk rock track with crushing riffs that lay bare Buzz’s devotion to bands like Discharge and Black Flag. Dillard’s drums and Osborne’s guitar converse with surgical precision, while Maitres and Manes add layers of electronic noise with a subtlety that surprises—given the chaos swirling around strings and drums.

“Vomit of Clarity” opens the gates to madness. Here the band hurls itself into its wildest, most experimental side, building a sonic landscape that asks no permission and offers no concessions.

“Short Hair With a Wig” is simply brilliant. You can feel the tension in every second. The fusion between the Melvins and their collaborators reaches a fever pitch: epic guitars, unpredictable distortion, and an atmosphere as dense as it is captivating. Even by Melvins standards, this is uncharted territory.

“Victory of the Pyramids” curiously evokes Roxy Music. Maybe it’s Dillard’s steady drumming, or perhaps it’s those Osborne riffs floating between styles, refusing to land in any.

Then comes “Venus Blood,” where the classic Melvins DNA shines through: slow tempos, psychedelic vocals, and an energy that calls to mind Flipper as much as Saint Vitus. It’s a nod to their past, without abandoning experimentation.

Thunderball is, even for the Melvins, a strange album. But it’s not inaccessible. There are moments of clarity, groove, and structure. And it’s exactly in those spaces that its true power is revealed: the band is leaving its comfort zone without falling into the trap of being unintelligible. Thunderball isn’t some cryptic indulgence. It’s a surrealist work that captures the Melvins at their freest, wildest, and most honest.