Pop : Mudhoney’s Unfocused Grunge

The Seattle rock scene was the target of a devastating parody on “The Ben Stiller Show” recently--”The Grungies,” in the mode of “The Monkees.” That might signal that the time is finally right for Mudhoney, the Seattle band that more than any of the others seems to stand for fun.

But the band’s show at the Hollywood Palladium on Friday, its first Los Angeles appearance since the release of its major-label debut album, “Piece of Cake,” raised the question: Is Mudhoney right for the time?

Mudhoney is arguably the keystone of the rise of Northwest rock, cited by Nirvana’s Kurt Cobain, among others, as a prime mover of the area’s club scene. Given the fashion fallout of that development, it’s understandable that Mudhoney on Friday appeared to consider it a dubious distinction, and used the opportunity to toss a few of its own zingers at grunge culture.

Guitarist Steve Turner spurned the several shirts that were flung to the stage from the mosh pit, disdainfully telling the plaid, plaid, plaid, plaid world that was the audience, “I do not wear flannel.”

Earlier in the show, Mudhoney played “Thirteenth Floor Opening,” a song from “Piece of Cake” that may well be a terrific spoof of the Sabbath-derived ominousness of fellow Seattle-ites Soundgarden.

Or it may not have been a spoof. It was hard to tell, and that’s the problem with Mudhoney. With the humor and with a wider musical palette than other Seattle bands--drawn from ‘60s, ‘70s and ‘80s punk--Mudhoney covers considerable range. At times, especially early in Friday’s show, the band played with remarkable power.

But too often Mudhoney seemed to lack a focus, and frontman Mark Arm, while a talented writer, was neither commanding nor visionary. As powerful as the musical performances were, after about 30 minutes all the songs started to sound the same.

Only during the encores did it come together. Arm--who, static and hiding behind his blond hair, had been zilch as a physical presence--put down his guitar and put on a red garter belt that had also been tossed from the crowd and became a punk-rock demon. The material wasn’t necessarily any more dynamic than what had already been played, but it seemed more alive. Too little, too late.

Scottish quartet Eugenius, another band that has benefited from Cobain’s endorsement, preceded Mudhoney with a pleasant, well-received set that suffered from the same lack of visual and visionary momentum. The punk-edged power-pop would have stood out at, say, Madame Wong’s in 1979, and to some extent it stands out now by virtue of its cheerful melodiousness, if nothing else.