Mudhoney’s first two EPs concocted the formula for grunge: Stooges-schooled snarl meets skeezy hard rock, with a pinch of diseased psychedelia. On their 1989 self-titled LP, the Seattle brats get it down to a science. “This Gift” bubbles up like toxic waste oozing out of a sewer; “Here Come Sickness” lives up to its advance warning thanks to a stomach-twisting drum groove. But no song in Mudhoney’s canon matches “When Tomorrow Hits” for sheer menace and dread, as an ominous rumble explodes into a roiling fuzzcalypse.