Sugar – File Under: Easy Listening

 

Sugar – File Under: Easy Listening

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

You were one half of an iconic punk rock songwriting partnership. You pioneered alternative rock. You inspired legions of noisy disciples. And when that project fell through, you formed a new band and made your most acclaimed album yet. But what do you do next?

For Sugar’s Bob Mould, the answer was simple – make another great record. While the answer was simple, the execution was anything but. Protracted recording sessions, doubts about the drummer’s ability, and an open secret – which would no longer be a secret – plagued Mould throughout late 1993 and early 1994.

Mould had co-lead Husker Du as singer and guitarist with charismatic drummer Grant Hart the previous decade. After signing to a major label, a power struggle developed and the band fell apart. So, Mould struck out alone before forming Sugar in 1991.

Sugar took all of what was great about Husker Du – trebly, fuzzy guitar leads, thunderous drums, spritely tempos – and combined these elements with the sounds of the budding UK shoegaze scene. Their debut album 1992’s Copper Blue was a success both critically and commercially. They followed it up in 1993 with the even more successful concept EP Beaster.

It was looking like Sugar could help lead a new alt rock revolution with the likes of Nirvana, Soundgarden, and Smashing Pumpkins. It was time to record the album that became File Under: Easy Listening. But this is where the trouble started.

Previous recording sessions had gone smoothly, but things were not so simple this time around. Feeling the pressure of being “the next Nirvana,” Mould began to doubt himself and those around him. He began second guessing his material. And he was doubting if drummer Malcolm Travis was right for the band.

These doubts were quickly expunged however, when the drummer laid down his parts for the opener “Gift.” According to Mould’s autobiography Travis played the drum track with such a force that his hands bled. As a hard-charging rocker with tremolo guitars and machine gun drums, “Gift” is an excellent opener.

There was also another issue facing Mould at the time. His sexuality had always been an open secret throughout the 80s and the first part of the 90s. He never explicitly came out as gay, but also never hid who he was either. During interviews for a Spin magazine profile, Mould put an end to the questions and rumors.

While he wouldn’t fully embrace his sexuality as part of his identity until the following decade, it was a big deal for Mould. He could now fully focus on his songwriting without his personal life getting in the way. This time however, it wasn’t just Mould contributing songs.

Bassist David Barbe had contributed b-sides to single before, but this time one of his cuts made the album. “Company Book” has a mid-tempo grind with sweet vocals on top. It’s a slightly unconventional approach to powerpop, but it contrasts nicely with Mould’s gruff style.

Barbe essentially fills the role that Grant Hart would on a Husker Du album. But whereas Hart and Mould were equal partners, Barbe is more of a sidekick. His contributions, while worthy, are not at the level of Mould’s. But we have several Mould greats to talk about.

Along with the aforementioned “Gift,” we have the singles “Your Favorite Thing” and “Gee Angel,” as well as the acoustic “Panama City Motel” and “Believe What You’re Saying.”

“Your Favorite Thing” channels the sound of college rock with it’s jangling yet hard-charging guitars and melodic chorus. It’s Mould’s version of Document-era R.E.M. “Gee Angel” is more familiar territory for Mould. A fast-paced rock song, Mould uses a defective pair of angel wings as a metaphor for unrequited love.

On “Panama City Motel,” Mould is in the role of nightmare American tourist, arguing with the motel manager about currency, and later a restaurant waiter about the food. It’s pretty comical and Mould plays it with a wink and a nod.

“Believe What You’re Saying” is a sweet-sounding song, but the lyrics paint a darker picture. Mould is setting boundaries in a relationship that he knows cannot go on any further. His warm tenor, and 12-string acoustic strumming give the track a softness not heard in his other work.

But “Explode and Makeup” is something else entirely. A wounded downtempo rocker, Mould nothing left to say in his relationship. His warm distorted guitar playing resembles Neil Young’s work with Crazy Horse. When the solo hits, and Mould reaches the crescendo in the final refrain, it is a career highlight.

Bob Mould may have struggled to put the record to tape, but it was all worth it. Though he could’ve abandoned the sessions and gone solo, his instincts to stick it out paid off. While Copper Blue gets most of the attention, File Under: Easy Listening is equally worthy of praise.

Rykodisc/1994