Although Soul Asylum reached a commercial peak in 1992 with the Grammy-winning Grave Dancer’s Union, they’d already been active for a number of years (having formed in 1981) and the album’s hit (Runaway Train) was no mere fluke, its heartfelt lyric and yearning melody the result of hard-won experience. Like R.E.M, who similarly went supernova with the poignant, not-necessarily-representative Everybody Hurts, Soul Asylum refused to let the song define them, and the follow-up was the experimental, beautiful Let Your Dim Light Shine. An unsung masterpiece, it is a perfect example of Dave Pirner’s ability to weave exceptional stories from conventional situations (String Of Pearls), but times were changing and 1998’s underrated Candy From A Stranger proved to be their last album for nearly eight years, the band dismissed by Columbia and in need of time to evaluate and take stock.
Soul Asylum made a bittersweet return with The Silver Lining (2006), which was released in the wake of bassist Karl Mueller’s untimely death from cancer, and have remained active ever since, collaborating with acclaimed producer John Fields on Delayed Reaction (2012) and Change Of Fortune (2016). However, it is Hurry Up And Wait that feels like something of a rebirth. Coinciding with Dave Pirner’s return to Minneapolis and the first album to feature Ryan Smith, who joined in 2016, there’s a freshness to the record that belies the band’s forty year history and it is a joy from start to finish.
An optimistic opening, The Beginning asserts “this is the beginning of a great adventure, now’s not the time to step aside” over a crunchy melody that harks back to Hang Time, with former Prince drummer Michael Bland keeping things lively with his formidable work behind the kit. The song perfectly captures the fear and hope of middle age in four perfect minutes, only for the band to suddenly throw a curve ball with the heart-broken If I Told You, a lament to a shattered relationship that feels like a confessional. Set to a beautiful, understated melody, it gets under the skin and stays there. Fortunately, the Beatles-infused melodies and splenetic energy of Got It Pretty Good provides the pay off, and if you’re not hooked on the chorus after the first airing, you may well be dead inside. Similarly breezy, albeit with a lyrical sting, Make Her Laugh nods in the direction of Dim Light, with the band’s familiar layering of acoustic and electric guitars giving way to the gleeful hard rock of Busy Signals, the band revelling in one of the album’s most explosive moments. The first half concludes with the Springsteen-esque Social Butterfly, another track that captures the knife-edge feelings of middle age life, although Dave’s lyric still cleaves closer to hope than defeat, even if the odds seem tipped against the weary protagonist of the song.
Dead Letter opens up the second half, with the band opting for an American folk style reminiscent of Neil Young. With John Fields adding weight via the accordion, the focus is squarely placed on Dave’s typically excellent lyrics and you find yourself utterly lost in the story. It is but a fleeting moment, however, and the listener is soon snapped out of their reverie by the wiry, punkish Landmines. Both songs feel like a band flexing their creative muscles, and there’s a beguiling freshness to the performance that is irresistible. A more typically Soul Asylum song, Here We Go tips the hat towards Grave Dancer’s Union, but it’s Freezer Burn that stands out, Dave asserting that “I’ve still got so much to say” over a splenetic, guitar assault that has all the youthful rush of Husker Du. More reflective is Silent Treatment, another Dim Light moment, which reminds us of Dave’s singular ability to paint a picture with his words. Then, there’s the effervescent pop of Hopped Up Feelin’, a fuzzy blast that keeps the album buzzing right up to the conclusion of Silly Things, a bittersweet rumination on past mistakes, and the importance of learning to move beyond them. It provides the perfect closer and it leaves the listener feeling much as one does after a great book or film – somehow bereft of the company they have just left behind.
As a teenager in 1995, I fell head over heels in love with Let Your Dim Light Shine, and it says much of Hurry Up And Wait, that it evokes similar feelings in someone twenty-five years’ older, somehow bridging the experience of age with the vitality of youth. The album reminds us just how transformative music can be and Dave Pirner’s lyrics feel as heartfelt and relevant as they ever did. The best artists are those who grow alongside their audience, keeping alight the spark that brought them together in the first place, but allowing life’s changes to be reflected in the lyrics and melodies. Soul Asylum are such a band and Hurry Up And Wait feels like a record that I’ll still be playing another twenty-five years down the line. 9.5/10
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