Mudhoney
Live in Berlin, 1988
Sub Pop/!K7




The ascent of Seattle rock in the late ’80s
and early ’90s has long since been codified
in blurry images of Kurt Cobain leaping,
thrashing, and single-handedly saving rock
primitivism from the clutches of hairspray-poisoned,
corporate-rock oligarchy. It’s convenient
historical shorthand, but were Cobain
alive to weigh in on the subject, he’d probably
be the first to remind us that the true
Northwest vanguards were a rather ragged
and mighty foursome called Mudhoney.
The Live in Berlin, 1988 DVD is a remarkable document, and not just for the foresight
that found a German camera crew capturing the then-virtually unknown Mudhoney with
relatively high-quality video and audio (the latter has been released on CD as part of the
Superfuzz Bigmuff Deluxe Edition). Indeed, Live in Berlin is one of those artifacts that
should forever alter the popular creation myth around Nevermind and the year that punk
broke. Here, nearly a year before Nirvana’s first LP, Bleach, hit the bins, Mudhoney assaults
an unwary German audience with an ecstatic, adrenal, and unhinged barrage of the Stooges/Sabbath/Scientists distillate that Nirvana would borrow for their own punk-pop stew.
The torn jeans, shaggy hair, and blue Fender Mustangs and Hagstroms offer visual
reminders about how the fashion and guitar industries would soon co-opt the look of
broke, suburban, West Coast skate punks. But the songs and performance are nuggets
of tattered beauty. The irreverence and disdain for careerist rock posturing takes
shape as guitarists Mark Arm and Steve Turner pirouette through Dan Peters’ drum
solo on “In ‘n’ Out of Grace.” Turner and Arm’s guitar work emphasizes the power of
space truckin’ riffs above all, and solos more often than not are unbridled wah and slide
wipeouts merging Ron Asheton’s psych-punk with Sonic Youth’s art attack impulses. It’s
unlikely anyone was aware of the wrecking-ball force with which these elements would
upend popular culture a few short years later. But it’s a blast to watch these true Kings
of Seattle so joyously and presciently grease the wheels. —Charles Saufley