Grand Rapids, MI – 21 Oct 2023
The Godfathers of grunge are still going strong.
There are very few things I enjoy about getting older, but looking back, I really did get to see a lot of great bands in their prime. Grunge broke in 1991, the year I graduated from high school. It was the last (non punk) musical movement that I really connected with. I saw three of the “Big Four” (Alice In Chains, Pearl Jam, Soundgarden) multiple times in the early ‘90s. (Nirvana were the exception. I had a chance to see them on a snowy night in early ‘94, but decided to wait until next time. I guess we all know how that turned out.) I saw Meat Puppets, TAD, Melvins. and Screaming Trees in small clubs. I even saw Stone Temple Pilots open for Butthole Surfers.
Mudhoney had nearly previously eluded me. The lone exception was a mid afternoon, half hour outdoor set at Riot Fest. I relished the opportunity to see them play a small local club on a Saturday night. Things got more complicated in months between buying the tickets and the actual show. The three day T1 Fest, a pop punk heavy fundraiser put on by some pals in Chicago fell on the same weekend. Also, my wife decided we should go on vacation the following week and wanted to leave as early as possible.
We compromised and went to T1 on Friday, catching a killer lineup of The Queers, SACK, and more. After a night of heavy drinking, a three hour drive home, and having to pack for a weeklong trip, I showed up at the Pyramid Scheme already fairly weary on Saturday October 21st.
That might be why I had a hard time getting into opener Hooveriii. The young long hairs from Los Angeles started promptly at 8pm and played what I would describe as aggressive classic rock. They featured saxophone and keyboard in addition to the typical guitar, bass and drums. It was strange. They weren't bad, but I didn't really enjoy it. Their 45 minute set felt overly long. (Fortunately, they were the only opener.) It was probably more my fault than the regrettably named Hooveriii. (Pronounced Hoover three.) Sometimes you're just not in the proper headspace to receive music.
The setup time between bands also seemed a bit excessive. Especially considering that Mudhoney's stuff was already on stage, and Hooveriii were jammed into about a three foot strip at the front of it. All was forgiven when Mudhoney finally hit the stage about 9:20. Opener “When Tomorrow Hits” was good, but the extended jam on “In ‘N' Out of Grace” really got the crowd engaged. Frontman Mark Arm was more NPR DJ than rock star. There was no “HOW THE FUCK YOU DOIN” GRAND RAPIDS?” or “GRAND RAPIDS REALLY KNOWS HOW TO ROCK!”. It was more like a laid back conversation with the audience.
Speaking of the audience, it was among the oldest I've recently been a part of. There was a higher than normal percentage of folks north of 50. You could tell. They seemed way out of their element in a crowded club. I'm sure plenty of 20 somethings heard the story the next day over Sunday dinner. About mom and dad's exciting adventure to a club in the hood to see a rock band!
Not surprisingly, the oldest songs got the best responses. “You Got It”, “No One Has”, “Touch Me I'm Sick” and “Sweet Young Thing Ain't Sweet No More” all went over well. Toward the end of the regular set they played a handful of never, sharply political songs. Arm put his guitar down and belted them out like straight punk songs. They weren't bad, but didn't have the powerful, wall of fuzz sound, or raw sexual energy of the early material.
Mudhoney took long enough to return to the stage for their encore that the crowd had started to thin out. Those of us in the back worked our way up front and were rewarded for staying. The four song encore included “Suck You Dry” and “Here Comes the Sickness”, bringing the set to an arena worthy 90 minute length. Mudhoney got a lot of love in their first ever Grand Rapids show. Bad Religion played their first GR show the following night and got the same rabid response. The bottom line? Don't skip Grand Rapids!
Confessions of a merch whore: It was an expensive weekend. I came home from Chicago with four new LPs and two new 7”s. Still, I dug deep and picked up a 35th anniversary edition of the 12” EP SuperFuzz BigMuff on mustard yellow. I also couldn't resist a gold translucent repress of the single that started it all, “Touch Me I'm Sick” b/w “Sweet Young Thing Ain't Sweet No More”. I went home with a single dollar in my wallet.
Part-time punk writer, suburban dad and angry old man. Follow my adventures on the Punk Till I Die podcast!