If you ask Melvins frontman Buzz Osborne a stupid question, you're going to get a silly answer. Caught on his cellphone at a gas station en route to a gig in Houston, Texas, the leader of the long-running combo says that 25 years of touring have made travelling a bit wearisome, but he admits things could be much worse. When the Georgia Straight inevitably takes the bait and asks for specifics, the musician cooks up a couple of scenarios far more unsettling than being in one of the most celebrated sludge-metal acts of all time.

“Sitting in the joint would be worse,” he deadpans. “Being addicted to crystal meth, that would be worse. Working at a slaughterhouse, that could be worse. Prostituting down at the bus station, that would be worse. And that's just off the top of my head!”

Considering his list, it's plain to see that the Melvins—rounded out by bassist Jared Warren and drummers Dale Crover and Coady Willis—are sitting pretty. That doesn't mean, however, that the band's latest opus, The Bride Screamed Murder, is as cheery as a ray of summer sunshine. In fact, the record is full of uncomfortable moments that'll have the hairs on the back of your neck standing up a good mile higher than Osborne's iconic frizz-fro.

“Evil New War God” bludgeons immediately with six-stringer Osborne delivering drop-tuned death blows. The song gets progressively more bent as Willis and Crover trade monster fills before the whole band syncs up to a crypt-keeping crescendo of Castlevania-style organs.

“The Water Glass” similarly starts with monumentally oppressive metal licks, but bizarrely marches into a driving military cadence that finds Osborne leading its lengthy call-and-response section like a demented drill sergeant.

Despite the disc coming off like a choice pick on Ares's iPod, the vocalist insists he's not too keen on the army.

“I'm not the military kind,” he states before recanting his position to something far more sarcastic. “The kind of military stuff I'd want to do is be in charge, in the rear with the gear. Unless you could guarantee that I'd be killing people. Then I would be up front killing as many people as I could. I want to be the guy walking around the pit of bodies, finishing everyone off with a .45.”

The singer explains that while “The Water Glass” is about death, its premise is more obtuse than getting cut down in the line of duty.

“The theme of ”˜The Water Glass', as convoluted as it might sound, is about a sickness that you can't help, the kind that brings you to the verge of death. That's what it's about. You can get it from something as simple as a water glass.”

The tune is just one of The Bride Screamed Murder's many oddities. While the album finds the troupe barrelling through doom-laden song structures, there's more to the Melvins' mania than cranked Marshall stacks.

“I'll Finish You Off” transforms Black Sabbath-indebted gloom into a freakishly upbeat scatting session, while the harrowing “Hospital Up” highlights the sounds of squeaking balloons, free-jazz piano, and the howling of a confused canine.

The most out-there track, however, is the defiantly delicate “P.G. x 3”. Influenced in equal parts by Simon & Garfunkel and Gregorian monks, the song transports us to an idyllic land full of chirping birds.

Considering the wild ups and downs of The Bride Screamed Murder, the cut's final lyric, “And every moment a different sound”, sums up the Melvins quite nicely.

While he's still feeling the need to annihilate eardrums, sifting a healthy dose of strangeness into the group's sound prevents Osborne from being in just another metal band.

“I've always had a very strange outlook on everything I've done. It's a disregard for any kind of normalcy,” the musician proudly asserts. “There are plenty of bands out there that are willing to do things simple. I don't think people should look to us for that.”

The Melvins play a sold-out show at the Rickshaw Theatre on Monday (July 5).