Feeling a bit like a stringer for Rolling Stone, I leapt at the chance to talk with Mark Arm of Mudhoney, a rock band among rock bands, a band that’s kept largely the same personnel and certainly the same aesthetic in sharp, punk-primed focus for over three decades. With the same disbelief, I had to pinch myself when I heard the band would be playing Memphis, a city so often missed in tours by such well-established bands. But there it was: Mudhoney and Hooveriii, playing the Hi Tone this Friday, November 3rd.
Yet if Mudhoney is established, they most certainly are not establishment, still embodying the punk credo of the ’80s, also embraced by Jim Dickinson, that “corporate rock sucks.” Words to live by, and worth reiterating with this band, so often lumped with “grunge” but more lively and not as salable as those mega-grunge bands of yore. Even the albums Mudhoney has done with big-name producers (including Dickinson) have kept at their heart a rawness that should make any grit-n-grind Memphis punk feel at home.
Catching up with Arm as the group arrived in Asheville, North Carolina, I jumped in by asking what it takes to keep things surprising and a little unhinged even in a band with such longevity.
Memphis Flyer: You have a 35-year long catalog of songs to draw from. How do you and the rest of the band approach that and keep it fresh?
Mark Arm: It’s true, we tend to play some of the older stuff — that we can remember. Occasionally, we’ll dust off some some weird thing that no one’s heard for a while. And people respond well to them. So it’s like a feedback loop. You can feed off that energy and that keeps the song fresh.
Listening to various records of yours over the years, it seems like you guys strike this beautiful balance between evolving and keeping things fresh, yet staying true to a certain aesthetic of really thick, sick guitar tones and great riffs.
I appreciate that a lot. You see a lot of bands chasing something — they might start out initially kind of cool, but then they’re like trying to catch up with whatever they think is trendy. And by the time their record comes out, it’s two years too late.
Meanwhile, you guys could give fuck-all about the trends.
I don’t even know what they are. I mean, even if we were to, God forbid, do an unplugged album, it would still sound like us. That whole notion of the unplugged album was like, you can really tell a good song if it’s stripped down to its bare essentials and played acoustically. It’s like, ‘No! the whole point of the song — the way we recorded it — was the guitar sound.’ That’s it!
And there is a real cornucopia of guitar tones in your albums over the years. Do you think of that in any particular way, like saying, ‘Okay, this song has got to have a Black Sabbath kind of tone’ or something like that?
Not in terms of trying to exactly emulate something, but I did get an Sabbra Cadabra pedal that sounds like you’re going through a Laney [amplifier] from the ’70s. You know, it doesn’t quite but it’s a very cool pedal.
Certainly diving into the possibilities of the guitar. I’ve been listening to the latest album, Plastic Eternity. Did that mark the first use of a synthesizer on a Mudhoney album?
No, no — we have done things like a fake Hawkwind song. [laughs] And on Five Dollar Bob’s Mock Cooter Stew, we re-did “Make It Now Again,” and and I think there’s also a song called “No Song III” on that. They both have synth noise or chords in the background. And actually the first time we played in Asheville we went to the Moog factory. That put Guy [Maddison] on a path of starting up an all-synthesizer band called The Beauty Hunters with an old friend of his. It’s actually a three piece but the third person does projections. And they would do these really cool shows in places that don’t normally host shows, like a generator under a bridge or in some weird park or something. And that was always a really cool thing to go see. Obviously Guy moved to Australia, so that isn’t quite happening anymore, but Guy’s put synthesizer on a couple of songs on Digital Garbage and on this record. And he actually learned his way around it. It wasn’t like what we did in the 90s, where it was just like, “Arrgh, let’s make noise!” It was a more considered approach.
So Guy, your bassist, lives in Australia now, and rejoins you guys for tours like this?
He moved to Australia in the summer of 2022. And this is our third tour since he’s moved to Australia. This time Guy just came to Seattle before the tour. We had a couple practices and now by the fourth show into the tour we’re firing and all cylinders. By now, Guy’s been in the band for more than twice as long as Matt [Lukin] was.
I wanted to ask you a second about working with Jim Dickinson. Some people say it’s sort of your blues rock album, and I don’t really hear it that way.
I don’t hear it that way either. I mean, there’s always been a hint of blues but it’s not actual blues. And hopefully it’s not like Blues Hammer in that Ghost World movie. But it’s kind of taking a blues structure, not quite 12 bar or whatever, but with two lines of the same line and the third line’s a different line.
Did Dickinson draw out anything in the band when producing you?
It’s hard to say, it was so long ago. But I have really fond memories of working with Jim. That was a weird period, because the way that deal with Reprise was structured, on the third record, we wouldn’t be able to keep the back end of the recording budget, so whatever we spent was spent. We could kind of feel the end [with Reprise] was coming, and this would be our last chance to actually work with a quote unquote “producer.” We were wracking our brains, trying to think of like who would we even want to work with, and Jim Dickinson was the only person that we thought would be great. And he was.
I just love the fucking looseness of Like Flies on Sherbert. Obviously, he wasn’t gonna be like, “You need to clean that shit up.” Right? He’s gonna let whatever happens happen. He wasn’t living in a music industrial town like LA or New York. He was just living in his house in North Mississippi.
Has the band come through Memphis much over the years?
Not often enough! I mean, the last time we played there was a Gonerfest. Fucking a blast! And I generally don’t enjoy festivals that much, especially the bigger kind. I would never go to one. There’s no way I would just like pitch a tent in the mud somewhere. But Gonerfest is definitely different. It’s got a different aesthetic than most festivals. It’s the only time I’ve been able to see Human Eye!
Well, Memphis welcomes you. I’ll just say that on behalf of the city.
We expect a giant key!