These aging contenders are heavyweights, but the question is, "Do they still pack the punch?" Aberdeen, Wash., is a bare-knuckled town where Metal Church, the Melvins and Nirvana came from, back when the Melvins first formed the peculiar notion of fusing metal to punk (it begins there with them, not in Seattle).

But how to go forward? How to survive the death of close friend (and, briefly, producer) Kurt Cobain? Where to go from 1993's Houdini, the best heavy-metal release of the decade? And, still, only a few outside the charmed circle of the Old Guard underground know their name.

Stoner Witch, the ninth Melvins long player, remains a journey without maps, destination unknown. Many of the songs are built around conventional metal structures, the path of least commercial resistance for a trio whose preference runs to very ugly noises – witness the impossibly long closing number "Lividity." But how to explain the beautifully subtle "Goose Freight Train" or the almost ambient "June Bug"?

The Melvins mean them all equally and without apology, and the band has become far more adroit than the monochromatic slow, grinding force its own legend would suggest. Buzz Osborne, when provoked, has a voice like vintage Leslie West on Quaaludes. Otherwise his singing is shy and soft. His approach to the guitar remains untutored, instinctive and fierce. Dale Crover uses his drums to punctuate and propel with laconic force and builds exquisite tension. Mark Deutrom, once the Melvins' producer and for a year now their bass player, fits easily between.

And, oddly enough, the Melvins don't really have to contend. They seem quite content simply being, doing what they do. (RS 700)

GRANT ALDEN