With The Bootlicker, Melvins have crafted an album that feels like a fever dream... a whisper you hear with your eyes closed, buried under layers of no thought. On this middle installment of their current trilogy (The Maggot, The Bootlicker, The Crybaby) they swing away from the sludge and fall down the rabbit hole of punk-psychedelia. Melvins are completely unafraid to explore whatever musical direction they wish. And as obtuse as King Buzzo can be, every song on here is in its own way is amazingly catchy. Buzzo's always had an ear for melody, even on early releases such as Bullhead, and on The Bootlicker this innate knack blooms in a thousand wonderful directions. I urge every forward thinking listener to at least try this album. The adventurous will not be disappointed.