The thing about the Melvins — nearly 30 years into their career and too many releases to count when you factor in live records, compilations, splits, tour-only specials, elaborately-presented box sets, etc. – is that you can really only compare them to themselves. And even that’s not fair, because their progression over all this time has been relentless — and never mind the fact that guitarist/vocalist Buzz Osborne and drummer Dale Crover have for a long time anchored a fluid lineup of bassists, second drummers, outside collaborators and other contributing artists — studying the path of those two alone is fodder enough for a two-year Masters program in the sludgy arts. They are among the most influential active bands in the heavy underground the world over, and they boast a cult of followers like none other, ready at a moment’s notice with hyperbole and open wallets for whatever brilliance the Melvins are able to churn out next at a rate that continues to be astoundingly prolific. Their latest outing – a full-length complemented by a Scion-sponsored EP called The Bulls and the Bees – comes under the moniker of Melvins Lite, and finds Osborne and Crover partnered with bassist Trevor Dunn for a collection of 10 tracks charmingly titled Freak Puke.

Dunn is no stranger to the Melvins. He’s played with them before, and both he and Osborne were members of the much-revered Mike Patton-fronted avant garde outfit Fantômas. Dunn also traces a pedigree back to Mr. Bungle (also with Patton), and has worked with the likes of John Zorn, Secret Chiefs 3 and his own Trevor Dunn’s Trio-Convulsant. What’s unique about his appearance here alongside Osborne and Crover is that the band took the time to signify that Freak Puke (released, as most of their records are these days, through Ipecac Recordings) is separate from the ongoing lineup Melvins lineup of the two mainstays and bassist Jared Warren and drummer Coady Willis. Indeed, that four-piece Melvins incarnation appears on The Bulls and the Bees, so is clearly ongoing, and one might look at Melvins Lite as a side-project still under the umbrella of the band’s output. In that way, it’s not so different from Melvins past collaborations with Lustmord or Jello Biafra, separated mostly from them by the name – which seems more suited to any number of the bands the Melvins have influenced along their way than to their own output in whatever form it might come. Whatever shifts in the band’s songwriting processes may have come into play with Dunn’s involvement, there are still a few characteristically Osborne riffs on display, from the sleepy groove of opener “Mr. Rip Off” to the single-worthy album highlight “A Growing Disgust,” on which Dunn seems to have switched from the bowed upright of the earliest cuts to a more standard rock approach.

He makes his presence felt early, though, and maintains it throughout, standing up every bit to Crover’s percussive mastery and the personality that always seems to ooze from whatever Osborne touches. Introduced with a big rock crash, “Inner Ear Rupture” is essentially two minutes of Dunn freaking out with his bow that’s led into excellently by the finish of “Mr. Rip Off.” The two tracks don’t run one right into the next (at least not on the promo download), but work well together in establishing Freak Puke’s breadth early. It’s the Melvins, even if the “Lite” in the moniker refers to their being a trio and not a four-piece, so they could and do take the album anywhere they damn well please, but it’s still good to make that clear at the outset, even if some of the strongest moments on the record are the most straightforward. To that end, “Baby, Won’t You Weird Me Out” seamlessly integrates Dunn’s bass runs with a righteously fuzzed solo from Osborne and handclap-ready snare hits from Crover before a chorus revival leads to a rhythm section-only showoff. Crover and Dunn are paired well, and the rocking stomp at the beginning of “Worm Farm Waltz” further shows the variety they’re capable of, moving from riff-led chugging into a more open chorus and back again before the titular waltz aspect kicks in. Dunn leads the charge amid double-layered vocals and tom hits from Crover, and if it sounds odd, well, that’s pretty much the point. Welcome to the Melvins.

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