Guy Maddison of Mudhoney: 10 Albums That Changed My Life

Feature Photo by Niffer Calderwood Photography.jpg

As Mudhoney’s bassist since 2001, Aussie-born bassist Guy Maddison brings the thunder from down under. With a love for punk but also an affinity for jazz, experimental, and more, it’s easy to see why Maddison is a perfect fit for Mudhoney’s ever-eclectic punk-laden soup.

Before diving into the ten records that changed his life, Maddison precursored the proceedings by telling Classic Rock History: “Let me just say, it’s not easy to pick ten. There’s some stuff I haven’t listed here… the list is not endless—but it is long!”

Maddison also shed some light on what’s up in Mudhoney Land. “We released the album Plastic Eternity last year,” he reminds. “We have toured the US, Europe, and Australia on that record. Next year, we hope to release a new record, which will be part of the recording sessions, which were Plastic Eternity and some other stuff we have been working on.”

He adds: “Mudhoney has a South American tour, Brazil, Chile, Argentina, and Mexico coming up (Mexico’s, of course, in North America), so we’ve got those Latin American countries on tour in March 2025.”

Apart from that,” he says while preparing to rattle off his list of beloved records. “I am plugging away at more synthesized music and my own solo projects. I am currently living and working in Melbourne, Australia.”

Never Mind the Bollocks, Here’s The Sex Pistols – The Sex Pistols (1977)

Even though I owned records before this, this was truly the first sea change for me in terms of what I thought music was. The ideas, The Sounds, The Pure aggression of the guitar sound. The bombastic attack of the drums, the sneering sarcasm of the vocals. I was 13 when I first took notice of this record, which completely changed the person I was at that point. Soon after, I began to identify as a punk rocker.

Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables – Dead Kennedy’s (1980)

In high school, my friend (Alastair Dawson, later to become an executive at Earache Records, punk rock can really stick with you), and I started skateboarding and listening to more punk rock music. There was a radio station at the local university (call sign 6UWA) in our hometown, Perth, Western Australia, and one evening, while listening to the radio, I heard the Dead Kennedy’s “Holiday in Cambodia.”

Soon after, we acquired a tape copy of Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables. This record, at the time, seemed impossibly fast; the sheer pace at which the songs were played was both exciting and confusing. It’s funny to look back on now, after much hardcore music progressed far in advance of the Dead Kennedy’s in terms of the speed that sounds were played at.

To think that we imagined this to be an incredibly fast record is comparatively for the time. Once again, the guitar tones. The attack of the drums and the intelligent, sneering, political vocals are what attracted me to this record.

Real Life – Magazine (1978)

I came to this through my punk investigations; I was aware that Howard Devoto had been the singer of The Buzzcocks, another band I admired at the time in my early teens. The track “Shot by Both Sides” initially attracted me to this record.

But listening to it over and over again, I became immersed and began to relate to the deep textural nature of many of the songs. A song like “Motorcade” showcases so much of that depth and texture. I still play this record weekly. Barry Adamson’s bass is driving and complex without being busy or cluttered. I still attempt to emulate the runs he makes on this record in my own playing.

Unknown Pleasures – Joy Division (1979)

What can one say? A disaffected 16-year-old punk kid finds it very hard to resist what one finds on this record. The moody, brooding tunes here are interlaced with sparse fields of soundscape, like a barren windswept hill. The subtle use of synth on this record is greatly underrated.

Peter Hooks’s bass playing, particularly the hooky (pardon the pun) punchy, driving basslines, had a profound and ongoing effect on my choice of instrument and how I tried to go about playing it. Songs like Interzone, “Shadowplay,” and “She’s Lost Control” really highlight this aspect of his playing.

Second Edition – Public Image Ltd. (1980)

A lot of the stuff that changed my perception of music happened around the same time. Second Edition by Public Image Ltd., perhaps more than any record, has constantly made me think about bass playing and composition. The eerie empty spaces on this record are amazing.

The interplay between the deep dub bass, spindly and spiny guitar, and the crisp metronomic drums create a unique feel. The vocals are very different from how John Lydon used his voice in the Pistols or on First Issue by PiL (a record I had heard before the second edition and also loved). “Pop Tones” and “Albatross” from this record still strike me in awe when I hear them. The rest of it is undeniably great, too.

Rattus Norvegicus – The Stranglers (1977)

I could easily include Black and White, No More Heroes, and The Raven here, too. But Rattus was my gateway into the powerhouse that is Jean Jacque Burnel. This is essentially the reason I took up the bass. The bass sound is so tough, and the playing is so ripping that it made me want to do that.

Of course, I can’t, but you’ve got to have stuff to aspire to. More than the bass. I really admired how incredibly dexterous, nimble, stylish, and interesting all the players are. The unique use of keyboards in punk music by this band set them apart.

Q: Are we Not Men? A: We are Devo! (1978)

Q: Are We Not Men? A: We Are Devo! (2009 Remaster) [Deluxe Edition]

The most fun record ever made! Fun, while still being challenging both musically and lyrically. Once again, fitting my fast-developing mold of sarcastic, politically infused, anti-establishment themes. “Gut Feeling,” “Mongoloid,” and “Uncontrollable Urge” are all fantastic songs.

Every song on the record is great, with absolutely no filler tracks. And then there is the reimagining of [The Rolling Stones’] “Satisfaction,” a great song. I prefer Devo’s cover to the original, which is obviously my taste—but also shows how versatile the Devo vision was!

(No Pussyfooting) by Fripp & Eno (1973)

This next one does not have any bass at all! I heard this record in the mid-80s but never owned my own copy until the early 2000s. Since then, I can barely put it down, even though there’s no bass; some of Eno’s synthesizer and Fripp’s remarkable guitar fill the bottom end spaces, with no need for further augmentation by a bass.

There are only two tracks on this record; both seem to transport me to the near future, a science-fiction landscape that I find beautiful and interesting. It is the “Slow Cinema” electronic equivalent of classical music, similar to Holst and Suk, but also tantric and modal. Amazing.

Damaged by Black Flag (1981)

I still struggle to really put into words what this record means for me, both musically and emotionally. It would be easy to say I was an angst-fueled, angry 17-year-old Punk and a bit of a cliché, so therefore, this record spoke directly to me. That, however, takes away a lot from this record’s actual value.

The bass on this record, played by Chuck Dukowski, is like a heavyweight pugging out an 18-round fight; it has flurries of punches, periods of fancy footwork, and sections of grim defense and cover. This, paired with the unbelievably crucial, anxious, and scrambling guitar of Greg Ginn, makes this record incredibly compelling. Add in the cavalcade of pummeling drums by Robo and Henry [Rollins]’s aggressive yet searching lyrics; it is a record that’s hard to deny in terms of its integrity and execution.

A Love Supreme – John Coltrane (1966)

Soothing, cosmic, and mesmerizing, this is the first jazz record that really spoke to me. Perhaps it’s Jimmy Garrison’s simple yet artful bass refrains on the title track that drew me in? Quickly, I discovered the beautiful mastery that is John Coltrane’s vision. I’m hardly going out on a limb here; thousands would note this as a seminal work and influence.