The title is a very obvious reference to the genesis of the material.  “Pinkus Abortion Technician” riffs off of the Butthole Surfers’ seminal noise rock shitstorm “Locust Abortion Technician” and features BH bassist Jeff Pinkus throughout (there’s also a couple Butthole Surfers covers, but I’ll get to those later.)  Pinkus has been in the Melvins’ orbit for a few years now, touring with them on and off, as well as popping up on a few studio recordings here and there; Dale Crover also occasionally holds down the drum throne for Pinkus’ sludge-rock project Honky.  These guys have been tight for awhile now, and it shows: “Pinkus Abortion Technician” is pretty much Jeff’s show, as he wrote the majority of the album’s original cuts (along with Dale and Steven McDonald) and handles most of the vocal duties. 

The other major conceit is that the Melvins are back to a four-piece, this time with TWO bassists.  Pinkus and McDonald are both white-hot musicians and their approach to the doubling of the low end was to split duties, with Pinkus handling a lot of the lower register, “cradle-style” bass work, and McDonald keeping himself higher up the neck, allowing for both players to cut through in the mix without stepping over one another’s lines and riffs; when you listen to the album closely through headphones, you hear a lot of sick bass harmonizing and soloing.  It works much better than anyone would think, and the pedigrees and aesthetic sensibilities of both players ensure that my “rock n’ roll” comparison is totally warranted: both of these guys can SHRED, and they do.

With Buzzo’s guitar work and vocals taking a backseat (which is probably a joy for him, to just sit back and get to rip it up) the Melvins sound like they’re having an absolute blast on this record.  As a collective, they’ve never really given a fuck about critical or audience expectation, and “Pinkus Abortion Technician” keeps that tradition alive: the album is half covers, and the original material is vastly different than where they’ve been heading on their last few studio outings.  Pinkus’ writing is firmly rooted in the punk and hardcore traditions with a Texas sheen: “Flamboyant Duck,” for instance, buoys distinctly twanging acoustic guitars and a banjo-led midsection against the punishing onslaught of Buzzo’s palm-muted, hyper-metallic riffing.  “Prenup Butter” (with Buzzo on lead vocals) heads in a similar direction, rife with layered acoustic guitars, but still willing to pyschedelicize itself with some heavily effected bass soloing from McDonald, as well as a blitz of skronky soloing from Buzzo.  “Don’t Forget To Breathe,” the album’s lengthiest track, is beautifully weird and menacing, with its insistently heavy bass riff anchoring a repeated refrain of whispers that explodes into an absolute mess of a guitar solo.  I expect the song to become a live favorite for the band the way “Let It All Be” has.

The best original songs, though, are Pinkus’ intense solid rocker “Break Bread” and Dale’s lightning quick punk blast “Embrace The Rub.”  Both are total full-throttle destroyers and showcase the Melvins’ insane tightness as a band, as well as their increasingly democratic approach to songwriting.  “Break Bread’ is as heavy as anything Buzz has written and allows every member ample opportunity to show off their considerable chops.  Want to hear Dale let loose with his all-over-the-place percussive tricks, as well as his “heavier than death” drumming?  It’s there.  Want to hear Buzzo shred his way up and down the neck ala Kerry King and Jeff Hanneman locked in a room with Flipper’s Ted Falconi?  It’s there too.  Want to hear Pinkus and McDonald freak the fuck out on their basses and whip up a flanged-out, over-sludged tornado of sonic vomit?  “Break Bread” covers it all.  Want to hear the Melvins’ play like they used to in 1983, before they decided to slow things down?  “Embrace The Rub” brings you back: it sounds like Minor Threat sans all self-seriousness, with the pace kicked up just a notch.

The other half of “Pinkus Abortion Technician” is given over to four covers: a medley of The James Gang’s “Stop” and the Butthole Surfers’ “Moving To Florida”; the Beatles’ “I Want To Hold Your Hand”; and the Butthole Surfers’ “Graveyard.”  Both “I Want To Hold Your Hand” and “Graveyard” have been staples in the band’s live sets for years, and the studio versions are fittingly bludgeoning and devolving.  “I Want To Hold Your Hand” progressively falls apart during its back half in the best possible way, becoming a noise freak-out along the lines of “Specimen” or the most gargantuan live renditions of “Night Goat”; similarly, “Graveyard” churns and chugs along until it explodes into a cacophony of storming guitar filth and hellacious noise, with Dale’s drumming and the joint bass work of Pinkus and McDonald just barely keeping the whole thing together.  “Stop Moving To Florida” is perhaps the album’s most straight forward tune: it’s shot through with all manner of tasteful harmonized bass licks, with the band essentially making the James Gang’s version just a bit heavier (and a lot less self-indulgent, though I never minded that about the original), while the second half of the track adopts an equally faithful approach to the Butthole Surfers tune.

I’ve really come to love the Melvins’ revolving door approach to members in their band.  They’ve proven themselves to be completely adaptable and up to pretty much any musical challenge.  They continue to simply follow their musical interests, whatever they may be.  That sort of hyper-individualistic bent and “fuck ‘em all” attitude are what have made the Melvins such a consistently rewarding and interesting project over the last three decades; I don’t see that changing anytime soon.  “Pinkus Abortion Technician” is a very strong Melvins album, and it’s also a hell of a lot of fun.  What more could you ask for from a rock n’ roll record?  The band sounds totally on fire; everyone is playing at their best here.  I can’t wait to see these songs live this summer.