Bob Mould – Patch The Sky

 

Bob Mould – Patch The Sky

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

You’ve led two critically acclaimed and highly influential groups. You’ve inspired dozens of groups to follow in your footsteps. And now you’ve made two recently acclaimed albums about aging as a punk musician. Where do you go from here?

So was the story of Bob Mould in 2016. The former Husker Du and Sugar leader had felt rejuvenated in the wake of his 2011 memoir See A Little Light. And writing the book seems to have greatly influenced his style of songwriting in the years following it.

If 2012’s Silver Age showed Mould making sense of the challenges of aging, 2014’s Beauty & Ruin was even more specific. Songs like “Let The Beauty Be” read like letters to Mould’s younger self. “Hey Mr. Grey” turns middle-aged cliches into a rock anthem.

Like his hero Pete Townshend before him, Bob Mould is always best when working within a specific concept. So, when Mould announced Patch The Sky for release in March 2016, fans had high hopes it could measure up to both of the albums preceding it. But how does it stack up?

Leadoff track “Voices In My Head” features a rising and falling melody, and warm (slightly fuzzy) electric guitars. But the lyrics tell a slightly darker picture. Mould sings of “strange hallucinations” and shutting out the outside world. He also broaches the topic of suicide.

The song ultimately has a positive conclusion, however. Towards the end, Mould sings of “getting on with life instead” and letting go of all his “ghosts and demons.” It’s atypical subject matter for a Mould opener, but one which stirs the thoughts of the listener.

Elsewhere, Mould is in more familiar territory. The powerpoppy “You Say You” and “The End Of Things” again show Mould’s affinity for loud, up-tempo Who-styled rock. “Daddy’s Favorite” could have fit on Beauty & Ruin with Mould again addressing his younger self. With both of his parents now deceased, Mould was able to fully reflect on his upbringing.

I would be remiss not to mention the band chemistry at play on this album. Drummer Jon Wurster of Superchunk is a force behind the kit as always. His muscular fluidity, sheer power, and tight fills bring the songs to life. It is tempting to say that he is the best drummer Mould has ever worked with. (No offense to Grant Hart or Malcolm Travis.)

Bassist Jason Narducy plays with a melodic heaviness that blends with Mould’s fuzzy leads. A strong guitarist in his own right, Narducy’s role is almost that of a rhythm guitarist – similarly to Lou Barlow’s role in Dinosaur Jr.

Of course, Mould is the star of the show, playing and singing his heart out. He is in fine voice throughout, singing (and occasionally shouting) his way through melodically. As the singer and songwriter, he is naturally the emotional center. But his performances are indeed commendable.

“Black Confetti” is perhaps the best song of all. A blurry, fuzzed-out shoegazing track, it displays Mould’s love for My Bloody Valentine. Mould has made no secret of his love for that group’s 1991 opus Loveless. He wrote extensively in his memoir of how it felt like a distillation of all he had wanted to achieve with electric guitars in Husker Du.

Here, he is finally able to capture the sound in one song. A whirring, droning minor key guitar melody with barre chords and plenty of tremolo gives the track a hazy feeling. And the tight mid-tempo drumming of Wurster holds the entire thing together. The cumulative effects of the production, sonics, and arrangement are hair-raising in their meditative qualities.

With Patch The Sky, Bob Mould proves again that getting older can be a great inspiration in the right hands. While some artists may be limited by their advancing age, Mould isn’t afraid of the ghosts of his past or the voices in his head.

Merge/2016

 

 

 

 

 

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