For Melvins, more is more
http://www.azcentral.com/ent/music/articles/2008/08/19/20080819melvins.html
- DATE: Aug. 19, 2008
- WRITER: Ed Masley
Buzz Osborne (AKA King Buzzo) of the band that put the sludge in the sound of Seattle, the Melvins, scoffs at the very idea of being asked what the appeal of bringing in a second drummer to pound a second kit alongside original drummer Dale Crover could possibly be at this point, nearly 25 years down the road from the Melvins' first rehearsal.
"More is more," he replies, as though the answer couldn't be more obvious. "When is less more? More money is better, more food is better, more women is better, bigger breasts, all of it. Am I wrong? No. I'm 100 percent right. As well I should be. I'm in the business of being right."
And then, he laughs. But not enough to make you think he's kidding.
The Melvins welcomed second drummer Coady Willis and their latest bassist Jared Warren, both of the equally sludgy Big Business, to the inner circle just in time to play on 2006's (A) Senile Animal. This year's Nude With Boots feels heavier but Osborne hears it more as weirder.
"What is heavy," he asks, with a laugh. "That's the hard part. I mean, we have done a lot of records. A lot of records. You just try to keep it interesting through that amount of time and how do you do that? Hard to say. It would be like if you as a journalist wrote 24 stories about me. How would you keep them all interesting? That would be tough."
If they did have a goal going into the session, he says, it was a simple one -- to be good.
"And I certainly think it was mission accomplished," he adds, with a laugh. "I'm very happy with this record and I'm very happy playing with these guys."
He doesn't like having to talk about his music, Osborne says.
"It's really strange," he says. "It's like 'I like it' but I'm hearing it through different ears than anyone else in the world. I'm heavily biased. It's like my wife. Some people might not like her. I, of course, think she's the greatest thing on the face of the planet. But I'm seeing her through my eyes. I could say all kinds of things about our record, most of which people wouldn't agree with because they don't hear it the way I do."
Either way, he's pretty sure he's gotten better over time.
"I have a much easier time writing songs now than I ever did," he says. "I'm better at it. I'm better at everything, a better dancer, better looking, smarter, you know, all those things. I've been doing this for a long time. I've written well over 200 songs. I'm approaching Hoagy Carmichael's record. I don't know if I've ever heard him. I like his sandwiches, though. Then again, how could you not?"
He hadn't written half that many songs back when the Melvins had their brief flirtation with the mainstream, signing to Atlantic and cutting Houdini with early supporter Kurt Cobain, who'd once auditioned (unsuccessfully) on bass, as producer and guest. As happy as he was to spend that kind of major-label money and consider people like Aretha Franklin labelmates, though, Osborne never bought into the dream of crossing over like Nirvana did.
"No, never," he says, with a cackle. "We were ugly weirdos. I wasn't born into that shit. One thing I don't understand is women and MTV. That's for sure. It's always weird to me. They like that kind of wounded junkie look that he so easily fit into. I don't know why. It makes no sense to me but there you have it. All I know is we win. He's dead. We win."
Hold on. Weren't you friends with him?
"Better him that me man," Osborne says. "He can marry her and be dead. I'm not doin' it. I'm still here, just like Papillion in the movie."
And as long as he's still kicking, he'll keep making records.
After all, as Osborne sees it, "What else am I gonna do, take a job at Home Depot?"