7 / 10
When the definitive history of grunge is finally written, man-mountain Tad Doyle will warrant
more than a footnote. Famed for his hilarious cameo in Cameron Crowe's Seattle-based rom com Singles, Tad's eponymous rawk outfit nailed the proto-grunge sound perfectly on albums like '8 Way Santa', doomy Sabbath riffs slamdancing into buzzsaw garage punk, sharing their bleak humour with label and tourmates Mudhoney and Nirvana.
Tad was also first back in the dole-queue when the major labels' flirtation with grunge soured. Since then, Seattle has swapped needle-chic for dot.com culture and goatee-bearded slacking for Microserfdom but, as Hog Molly's debut album proves, Tad's doors of perception are still painted black.
So the rebirth of grunge starts here: the spiralling 'Alcohol' would've fit perfectly on 'Bleach', and legendary Sub Pop producer Jack Endino twiddles Hog Molly's knobs. But Hog Molly rarely sound dated, thanks to the bludgeoning riffola of 'Mr Right' and the feral thundercrack guitars on 'Paycheck', sludge-jollies that nod knowingly at genres like nu-metal and stoner rock respectively. It won't send legions of rabid A&R men Seattlewards, but 'Kung-Fu...' is 45 minutes of no-hoper doper thrash. Devour.
Stevie Chick
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