Return of the Prodigal Bob

The State Fair circuit is often deemed the death knell for a band’s career, the place where aging, balding rockers go to relive their glory days in front of aging, balding fans. But Bob Mould used his slot on this year’s Taste of Minnesota schedule as a springboard for an opposite aim- a chance to promulgate a revitalizing return to form. It’s been three years since his last record, the lamentable Modulate that fused his budding affection for dance floor electronica with the bedrock of post-punk guitar rock he helped spearhead & cement in Hüsker Dü. Much of that time was spent fine-tuning the follow-up Body of Song, an album that according to advance reports signals a return to the skull-crunching guitar-fueled pop of old with a band backing the fireworks and keyboards prominent in the blend.

I’ve not heard the disc yet, but the generous set under Saint Paul’s Harriett Island stage shell included a handful of songs from the record that left appetites substantially whetted. Taking the stage with sky blue strat slung low over shoulder and dressed in what has become the signature duds of tight black t-shirt and jeans a white-bearded Mould wasted no time in testing the stamina of the towers of amps hung on either side of the stage. The first few numbers including “Wishing Well” and “Hoover Dam” were a bit wobbly with a few flubbed chords and off-mic vocals, but he quickly hit stride, noting that he’d left his acoustic at home for good reason and fully intended to blow the fuses. A generous cross-section of tunes dating from Hüsker days thru his last solo record rolled off in steady succession: “I Apologize,” “Lonely Afternoon,” See a Little Light,” “The Act We Act,” “Needle Hits E” and so on, all rendered with cascades of biting distortion and at volume levels that harkened back to Sugar’s legendary cochlea-damaging gigs of the early 90s.

Puzzled by the absence of a band and aggrieved by the punishing volume, my girlfriend and a handful of friends retreated to a safe distance along the waterfront to wait out the set. I found myself fixed to spot thirty feet from the stage, smiling and mouthing the lyrics to songs that have been part of my listening diet for the better part of two decades. Bob has disappointed & confounded on occasion with detours into club DJ-ing and professional wrestling scripting, but I always end up coming back.

Between the tendrils of noise where stops for good-natured banter about the recent Minnesota state government shut-down, digs at SST who, ESP-style, still owes him back pay for units sold, and news as to his impending plans for brief European and American tours. Then came what probably the funniest bit of the afternoon. After asking the audience about their favorite food finds at the fair, the usual Minnesota ‘delicacies’ of pork chop-on-a-stick and fried candy bar-on-a-stick sailed back as replies. Someone yelled out “hot dish-on-a-stick” (available at concessions for a mere $4- ugh!) and Bob countered, “What? Where is he? Send him up here,” noting dryly after a mixed response: “Well, I guess that tells me how many fags are in the audience.”

The set rounded out with the spate of new tunes, including the hard-rocking “Paralyzed” that taps the flanging, sheets-of-guitar dirge energy of Black Sheets of Rain and a clutch of Hüsker favorites, among them an stretched-out recasting of “Chartered Trips.” I kept waiting for the obvious song choice and Bob didn’t disappoint, capping the show with a ripping invocation of “Celebrated Summer” ideally suited to the scintillating amplification of his strat and humidity-heavy setting. It’s testament to their indelible song craft how well most of these tunes translate to solo guitar renderings, the catchy melodic hooks surviving unscathed amidst the tumult and thunder.

Summary judgment laid waste to the vow Mould made six years ago when decided to cease his band-touring indefinitely citing the desire not follow the path of Neil Young and other geriatric rockers into potential self-parody, rocking out on rickety knees and stiffening backs. Fit and focused he seems poised to reclaim a justly-deserved spot near the top of the college radio charts. His slated to return on 9/28, playing a gig at First Avenue with a band in tow that boasts Brendan Canty of Fugazi manning the drum seat. I’ve got the night clearly marked on my calendar with a big red “X.”