The Melvins' rotating door policy on bassists reaches its natural conclusion

Core members Buzz Osborne and Dale Crover are joined at various points throughout the album by Nirvana’s Krist Novoselic, Butthole Surfers’ J.D. Pinkus, Redd Kross’ Steve McDonald, Fantomas/Mr. Bungle’s Trevor Dunn, and Big Business’ Jared Warren. Crover himself even picks up the bass for four songs while Mike Dillard got behind the drum kit, a nod to the band’s nascent early days as they rekindle the Melvins 1983 line-up. And while each musician brings their own creative spark and unique joviality to the songs themselves, much of these numbers come across as unfocused jam sessions rather than cohesive, distinctive tracks.

Perhaps that’s the point of the record, anyway, to present a ramshackle cross section of the band’s untamed history and the myriad influences that have helped shape them – all while letting their cheeky, irreverent humor shine through the unsettled din. The profane lark of "Shaving Cream", the indie rock/free jazz hybrid of "Planet Destructo", and the tame, by-the-book cover of The Beatles' "I Want To Tell You", all sit unsteadily alongside bristling, fiery rockers like "Choco Plumbing", "War Pussy", and "Phyllis Dillard". The album’s dark, doomy moments are continuously offset by jaunty musical excursions that prove that the band hasn’t forgotten to have fun in the studio. Even the long-awaited collaboration with Novoselic, "Maybe I Am Amused", winds up sounding like an open-mic night at a German beer hall, with the Sousa march-like undertones giving the track a lighthearted, inebriated quality.

After more than three decades of shaking the Pacific Northwest to the core with their sludgy racket, it’s far too late in the game for the Melvins to redefine their sound, or switch sonic directions. So, rather than making a sharp left turn on Basses Loaded, the band instead pays homage to their long, curious history by plugging in with some longtime cohorts, making an unholy ruckus, and once again not giving a damn about what we think of it.