There are certain artists that you fervently wish you could hear for the first time, just so you could recapture that same sense of excitement that you had when you were first introduced. Then, there are other artists who, with each release, effortlessly recapture that magic. Bob Mould easily fits into this latter category and, in spite of an immense back catalogue that takes in not only solo material but also two legendary acts – Husker Du and Sugar – there’s a lightness of touch to his material that makes each album a revelation in its own right.
And so, to Here We Go Crazy, Bob’s 15th album under his own name and his first in five years. Reunited with Jason Narducy (bass) and Jon Wurster (drums) – a propulsive rhythm section who have been with Bob since The Silver Age – Here We Go Crazy finds Bob on fine form, tearing through eleven tracks of emotionally charged, fuzz-laden power-pop in just over half an hour.
The album slowly emerges from a haze of guitar with the mid-paced title track. An elegant mix of vintage Sugar, with just a touch of R.E.M.’s wistfulness, it’s a powerful opening gambit that finds Bob in an enigmatic mood, caught between escaping to the wilderness and remaining trapped in the urban hellscape of the modern city. It’s followed by the blazing Neanderthal, a burst of twitchy, nerve-ridden power-pop that finds Bob struggling to contain the animal within. That same sense of disconnect flows into Breathing Room, a panic attack set to breezily wonderful music – a paradox that has long lain at the heart of Bob’s music. Even more bruising is the stabbing, punk-infused Hard To Get, which harks all the way back to Beaster, leaving you to wonder just how much nervous energy flows through the veins of this irrepressible artist. Rounding out the first side, the impossibly bright When Your heart Is Broken finds Bob alone in the darkest watches of the night, seeking catharsis in a heartrendingly wonderful explosion of chiming guitars and elastic bass. Few artists can summon such light from the darkness, but in Bob’s capable hands, neither the pain is diminished, nor the music compromised.
Opening the second half of the album, the pace is maintained as Fur Mink Augurs brings us one of the album’s most irresistible choruses. Rather harder on the senses is the acoustic Lost Or Stolen, which seems so mired in heartache that the very air seems to shake as it passes through it. In contrast, Sharp Little Pieces makes its manifesto clear, with Bob singing “the misery makes me feel alive” as the guitars pile up behind him. Somehow, it works, because there’s a sprightliness to You Need To Shine that suggests that some of the well-worn grief of the album’s first half has been jettisoned. That same sense of recovery flows into the final two songs- Thread So Thin and Your Side, both of which find Bob reaching out and finding solace in the arms of an unnamed other. It’s a heartfelt conclusion to an album that drags the listener through the depths of despair, crucially guiding them out the other side, somehow refreshed and at peace.
A unique figure in the US underground, Bob Mould has had a profound influence on so many artists it’s hard to quantify. Yet, such success takes a toll, as Here We Go Crazy so aptly demonstrates. For Bob, it’s the human connections we make that matter, as reminds us on the album’s closer: “If the world is going down in flames, I wanna be by your side, we can find a quiet place, it doesn’t have to be the Albert Hall.”
At the end of the day, Bob’s words and music have provided solace for so many, we can simply be grateful that he’s been by our side for all of these years. 9/10
