Bob Mould Gets Angry…. Again

Bob Mould | Blue Hearts | (Merge)
4 out of 5 stars

It’s jarring to realize that Bob Mould has shifted gears from 2018’s relatively positive Sunshine Rock to 2020’s far darker Blue Hearts. The latter he says “is the catchiest bunch of protest songs I’ve ever written in one sitting.” Arguably the angriest too.

The ex-Husker Du/Sugar frontman’s 14^th (!) solo album explodes with thrashing guitars, Mould’s vein-bursting singing and enough raw energy to remind anyone of the highlights from his legendary 80’s band. He’s pretty pissed-off about the current political state in songs like “American Crisis” (“It’s another American crisis/You can see how the lies divide us/World turning darker every day. In a f**ked up USA”) and “Forecast of Rain” where he asks the holy spirit “This love thy neighbor thing: does it apply to all mankind? Or only those who fit neatly inside your narrow lines?” All of this is accompanied by the brash, edgy strumming and punk pummeling associated with Mould at his most acerbic.

Thankfully he hasn’t forgotten the love of hooks that made his years in Sugar so memorable. They’re all over the place in “Siberian Butterfly,” a more personal song where he sings “You can’t see me, you can’t feel me/You can’t keep me, you don’t need me now.”

This might also be Mould’s most musically compact set too. Only one of the 14 tracks breaks three minutes, and three are under two. It’s a breathless ride as the guitars churn, the drums pound and Mould spits out his words with the raw vinegar vitriolic sneer any fan will instantly recognize. Play any of these tunes next to his mid-80s Husker Du work and few will be able to tell the difference. While he has done plenty since then, it’s remarkable how this new music holds up in sheer intensity to anything from over three decades ago when he was young and hungry. Certainly his personal demons haven’t calmed down as he sings on “Baby Needs a Cookie” that “This is my disease/ Every night I hear voices in my sleep/Go from loud to quiet, I’m haunted by your melody.”

The sonic attack dials back, somewhat, for the rather composed closing “The Ocean” where the still troubled Mould says “… the weight of the world it is lifting from my broken being/Don’t care, I gave up on living many years ago,” as the song closes on nearly a minute of a final strum that feels like the finale it is.

Those who might have lost the Mould map over the previous 13 albums will be thrilled to know he’s back, as compelling and uncompromising as ever.