
The first in a series of box sets
chronicling the entire recording
output of the grandfather of grunge,
Bob Mould, Distortion: 1989-1995
contains his first two solo albums
post Hüsker Dü, and then three
consecutive records from his
next group, Sugar. Despite the fact
that Sugar would normally be filed
under S, I decide to listen and write
about them now, trusting that
their inclusion in this box set
dedicated to Bob Mould firmly
solidifies them as part of his
catalog, band name be damned.
I never listened to Hüsker Dü.
In fact, I think it’s true that I heard
Workbook, Mould’s first solo album,
without even knowing about the
existence of his previous band. To this
day, I still have not listened to them,
which kind of blows me away,
given how much I loved the late
80’s and early 90’s Bob Mould.
Oddly enough, I don’t feel an
obligation to go back there. These
two solo albums were my starting
point with Bob Mould and I’m just
fine leaving it that way.
Workbook begins in the most beautiful
possible way, with an instrumental guitar
thing that sounds like something from a jazz
record, and the album ends with the most
cacophonous, rambunctious, intensely noisy
wall of guitar sound and screaming vocal
one could imagine. In between those two
extremes falls some of the best songwriting
of the era–musical, tuneful, lyrically smart,
and while Mould’s voice is not the most
mellifluous, his melodies are strong and
memorable. This is a great album and it
holds up exceptionally well. It is completely
free, in 1989, of any stink from the era.
His second solo album may be equally
great, but it is far more rocking, way less
easy on the ears, and darker: Black Sheets
of Rain, indeed. 1990. It predates Nevermind
by a year, and Mould is on the other side
of the continent, so would not have felt
the heavy weather coming from Seattle,
but I bet dollars to donuts that Nirvana
and Pearl Jam and Alice In Chains and
Soundgarden had heard Hüsker Dü
and likely were aware of these first two
Bob Mould solo records, and so, without
any evidence whatsoever, I dub him the
grandfather of grunge. Another collection
of great songs. Another album that concludes
with Bob Mould’s unearthly screaming.
Currently, I am attempting to go a month
without consuming any sugar. I’m drinking
my coffee black. No candy. No donuts. No
jam on the bread. No bread. So Copper Blue,
by Sugar, is a welcome guest right now to
my music tummy. It’s an odd moniker for a
band fronted by Bob Mould, replete as the
music still is with gobs of rock guitar, but
the tunefulness, the catchy chorus, those
things that might make for a song that
wants to be sung along to–those elements
are also cranked up to 11 on the Sugar albums.
Here is another area where Bob Mould is
taking the musicians from Seattle to school.
Copper Blue rocks really hard, is heavy AF,
but I challenge anyone to listen to “A Good
Idea” and not involuntarily start singing along.
Are those keyboards on “Hoover Dam”?
I think so! I suspect that the choice of Sugar
as a band name was meant as a kind
of joke, but one with an intentional truth
kernel: as Mary Poppins opines, a spoonful
of Sugar helps the heavy guitar go down.
All three of the Sugar albums in this box
are absolute rockers. The Beaster EP and
the hilariously titled File Under: Easy Listening
are terrific and fast, loud, heavy, and full of that
perfect combo between pop and hard rock
and punk. After five records of Bob Mould,
though, I don’t think I can handle the two
remaining records in the box, the Sugar
B-sides collection, a double album called
Besides, and the Distortion Plus: 1989-1995
album of bonus tracks. I mean, I’ve missed
listening to this guy, and I’ve thoroughly
enjoyed myself. I managed, I know, to get
through 24 studio albums by David Bowie
in succession. Somehow, this is different
after only five. Bob is not nearly the shape-
shifter Bowie was, so five albums of his
is a lot like listening to one very long record.
It’s a good record. But it’s long.
Notes on the vinyl edition: Distortion: 1989-1995, Demon Records, 2020, eight disc box set, all clear vinyl with various colors of swirl, different on each record. I thought this was an odd choice, but worthy of note, I think. All of the albums in this box have redesigned cover artwork, completely different from the original covers, but creating a kind of aesthetic continuity between the discs in the set. A small reproduction of the original cover is on the back of each jacket. It’s a cool design–but it may be disappointing to purists who value the WHOLE authentic experience of the original. Maybe the intended audience for a box like this are folks who already have the records (most likely CDs) with their original packaging, and who want something novel to look at. That’s kind of me. I have most, but not all, of these albums on CD and I went for the box anyway! Box includes the following albums and compilations:
- Workbook
- Black Sheets of Rain
- Copper Blue
- Beaster
- File Under: Easy Listening
- BeSides
- Distortion Plus: 1989-1995
In case you don’t already know: I’m listening to almost everything in my vinyl collection, A to Z, and writing at least one, sometimes two or three long skinny poem-like-things in response for each artist, and on a few occasions, writing a long skinny poem-like-thing in response to more than one artist. As a poet and a student of poetry, I understand that these things look like poems, but they don’t really sound much like poetry, hence, I call them “poem-like-things.” I’ll admit that they’re just long, skinny essays that veer every now and then into the poetic or lyric.