Having spent the last three decades hammering audiences with brilliantly belligerent noise with The Melvins, frontman Buzz Osborne now steps away from the amps and strip things down.
King Buzzo: This Machine Kills Artists
Melvins man goes unplugged.
Any concerns he might be going soft or, in his own words, becoming “a half-assed version of Woody Guthrie” as he embraces his folk side are, thankfully, quickly banished when This Machine Kills Artists gets into full flow. The melodies are dark, seething with a sardonic aggression even in their naked state, the sneering vocals rising from a deep, dark well of contempt for the world at large.
At 17 tracks, it becomes a bit of a repetitive slog towards the end, but it’s good to see that this old dog has just as much bite as ever when he strays.