Thunderball is the third Melvins 1983 album and it’s the most daring one. Originally created as an incarnation of the Melvins where original, original, original members Buzz Osborne and drummer Mike Dillard link back up to make music, the band’s two previous LPs found the crew kicking out punky numbers with some dumb-but-actually-smart humor: “Tie my pecker to a tree,” Beach Boys’ “I Get Around” warped into “I Fuck Around.”

But, Thunderball is different. For starters, the lineup on this one is Buzz and Mike, plus electronic artists Void Manes and Nim Maitres (who Buzz says he’s never actually met in person). Second, it’s heavier, darker, and further out. Sure, it starts with a hammering guitar and drums attack in “King of Rome,” but that’s just the hook. Immediately, the album works into an electronic only tune “Vomit of clarity,” which was created by Osborne taking Void Manes and Ni Maitres recordings, cutting them up, and making something new.

And from then on, it is three almost 10-minute epics in a row. Osborne has said that he isn’t married to “linear songwriting” and here, each of the three big tracks are a journey. “Victory of the Pyramids” has a soaring guitar that evokes the same chilled grandiosity of Bowie’s “Heroes” before dropping into a circle pit basher. It’s a fun trip.

Notably, the humor is gone. The whole record writhers through dark waters- Dillard has sinister tribal drums at one part. “Victory” has a mid-section that feels like a snake slinking and could even be taken from a classic Bauhaus track.

It can be dangerous to peer into Buzz’s psyche- as direct as he can be in his responses, he’s not a simple man, sop it can be dangerous to hold a one-to-one ratrio between the mood of his music and his mood. As an example, just because The Exorcist is mean and spooky, it doesn’t mean director William Friedkin was feeling bad. But then again, The Exorcist ends with some tragedy, but the villains defeated at the end. Thunderball never seems to end its vicious and bleak mindset. Is that because Osborne is feeling bad… or is it just a contemplation of the cosmic condition… or is it just a way of expressing temporary bad feelings… or is it just good old horror fun?

I don’t know but it is fun to hear Dillard in the drummer seat cranking tunes out with his old friend. Of course, Dillard is more of a punk/metal straightforward basher than Crover, and maybe that gives the whole LP a direct drive. That is, for all the low lumbering and slithering and menace, the album has power-energy all the way through.

At this point, Melvins traditional style ™ and Melvins 1983 are not only both evolving, but they are evolving in parallel paths. A band is usually A band, but now the Melvins are like two or three bands. Or maybe they are like a hydra- chop out a drummer and the band comes back, with the old drummer and the newer drummer and the drummer who was in the band for like eight years. That is, yet again, the Melvins subvert the traditional rock mindset. Usually, the longer bands go, the less energy and ideas they have, and things become more and more same-y. Melvins are growing faster than ever and are getting freakier and freakier. At this rate, by 2027, we will have 22 Melvins bands. I genuinely think they can do it.