Long after the rage for grunge has passed, Seattle band Mudhoney continue to make music their own way, Sinéad Gleeson talks to founder Mark Arm

On the cusp of the 1990s, when grunge had the world in its greasy paw, a small Seattle record label offered an antidote to the steady diet of English indie music fans had subsisted on for years. While Nirvana sold records in the millions and Pearl Jam scooped up critical acclaim, the first Sub Pop band I discovered was Mudhoney.

Having heard Touch Me I'm Sick on John Peel's show, I duly sent off to the US for their Superfuzz Bigmuff EP (named for guitar distortion pedals and not sex toys). Splicing sloppy garage with punk rock and humour, Mudhoney were the cooler, less global face of grunge.

Seventeen years on from Superfuzz and three years since Since We've Become Translucent, Mudhoney are mixing their seventh studio album.

"This album would have been out earlier if I hadn't gone on tour with the MC5 guys last summer," says Mark Arm from Seattle. "We also don't have to worry about putting out a record because we're 'hot' and need to stay in the charts. Another reason for the huge gap was because Matt Lukin left the band and we didn't really know what to do."

After Lukin's departure, Arm worked on another project with fellow Mudhoney member Steve Turner. Having a separate outlet provided the impetus for them to rediscover their Mudhoney mojo. The resulting tracks - not due out here until early 2006 - combine classic Mudhoney fuzz with a sharper edge.

Arm is ambiguous about individual tracks, but clear on the band's sound. "I don't know how to describe the album, but some people say it's different to previous stuff; others say it's the same. As a band, three of us have been playing together since 1988, so we very much have our own sound."

In production terms, they've built on the sound of the under-rated Since We've Become Translucent. . "We used three producers last time around and really liked the results," Arm says. "We had a bunch of songs already worked out so we divided them up according to which producers we thought would work best and went into the studio with each of them for a weekend."

Their recording timetable was pivoted around bassist Guy Maddison's schedule, a reminder that these days Mudhoney all have day jobs, with Arm himself managing the Sub Pop warehouse.

It might seem a far cry from their heyday, but Arm is more than content with the band's success. The inevitable issue of Nirvana's fame, which eclipsed all of Sub Pop's other signings, always comes up. "When we first started touring England, before Nirvana made it over there, we did an interview with Melody Maker. The journalist started with the sentence: 'So, when you become huge rock stars . . .' And we were like: 'That's just not gonna happen'."

So, was this a lack of faith or monstrous cynicism? "In a way, we felt that things had come really easily for us and we took stuff for granted. We went to Europe really early on in and John Peel was playing us, but we knew what we were. Most of the bands we liked or who influenced us never amounted to shit in terms of record sales. It wasn't even about being defeatist, we just knew what we were capable of."

Arm tells a story about Krist Novoselic and Kurt Cobain playing the first copy of Nevermind to Dan Peters and him raving that Nirvana would sell "a hundred thousand copies of the album".

"Because, to all of those bands at the time, that figure was huge. But no one knew how big it would go on to be. We were in a privileged spot to see up close what happened to Nirvana and Pearl Jam. Both bands handled their success in totally different ways. The way Nirvana took care of themselves, as a band and as people, was abysmal."

Mudhoney have recorded for major labels - they signed to Reprise/Warner Bros and released Piece of Cake, Tomorrow Hits Today and My Brother the Cow. But they are still better known for their early, smaller releases. .

When Mudhoney were at the top of their game in the early 1990s, another Bush was in the White House. If noisy guitar bands have always veered towards anti-establishment principles, Mudhoney were never overtly political.

"Well, it was always there, you know?" Arm says. "But we tried to couch it in black humour. With the new album, well . . . " He laughs. "It might have been blown a little bit out of proportion. There's a couple of tracks on there that are making a point, but it's not exactly 'fuck Bush'."

Not even on Hard-on for War?

"The year before the election, it was all I could think about. It's really frustrating living here right now. A lot of people were optimistic before the last election and a lot of us were pretty depressed for weeks afterwards when Bush was re-elected."

In Mudhoney's music, there is a tendency for the music to dominate, for the lyrics to get flushed away by a stream of buzzsaw guitars. Arm has always found writing lyrics difficult, and admits that it doesn't get easier with age. "For me, as time goes on it's harder and harder to find uncharted territory or something worth saying that I haven't said before. Either that or finding something to say that isn't a total cliche that, when you're younger, you can get away with.

"There's also nothing more boring to me than some super-confessional singer songwriter. Who gives a shit? Everyone has loved and lost and had to deal with it."

Mudhoney play The Village, Dublin on Thursday, September 15th