Bob Mould – Blue Hearts

Bob Mould is one of the most prolific solo artists to come out of the 80’s punk scene.  Since his days in seminal punk band Hüsker Dü he has released thirteen studio albums under his solo moniker and is fresh on his fourteenth offering.  The album, Blue Hearts, is a rambunctious package that long time fans should find as a welcome throwback to Mould’s early angst ridden days of punk rock.  For those of us that may have joined Mould’s solo journey around the time of District Lines (as I must confess is my case), Blue Hearts will serve as an introduction to the past through the lens of the present.

The album opens on a somber note, with “Heart on My Sleeve” ushering in the album’s social consciousness through barebones strumming.  “The west coast is covered in ash and flames, keep denying the winds of climate change,” sings Mould at the onset, painting a strikingly prophetic picture of the current California and Oregon wildfire situation as the very real consequence of ecological abuse.  “Next Generation” ups the tempo and intensity, drawing upon a punked-up spirit to write an open letter to future generations.  Mould’s attempt to reconcile the present global regime of environmental neglect with the necessity of future innovation stems from clear frustration with world leaders deferring responsibility.  Mould’s passion for activism blasts from the speakers as the raw reflection of a man who isn’t content to stand by and watch the world’s steady decline.  “Fireball” and “American Crisis” are not for the faint of heart, clearly intended to jolt listeners to attention and confront the systemic inequality that has become the American identity.  

It isn’t until “Forecast of Rain” that Blue Hearts starts to scale back the tempo and return to the more contemporary Mould we’ve come to expect.  The subdued, articulate stylings of Bob Mould have become a fixture in the alternative underground, with “Baby Needs a Cookie,” “The Ocean” and “Leather Dreams” maintaining the layers of maturity that Mould takes with him as a forty year veteran of the scene.  In this regard, he doesn’t really follow any discernible “rules” aside from tweaking melody and tempo while letting various guitar solos fly or fade depending on each song’s need.  Generally the album has a gritty feel, smoothed out by some of the more pensive songs, but miles away from albums like Life and Times and Beauty and Ruin.

As someone who has been more familiar with Mould’s work from the past decade or so, I enjoyed Blue Hearts for harkening back to a time I wasn’t around to enjoy the first time around.  While we’re not talking about pure Hüsker Dü here, Blue Hearts has an edge reminiscent of a younger, brasher Bob Mould.  The fourteen song runtime clocks in at slightly over thirty-five minutes, making for a “there and back” ebb and flow between styles.  That’s not to say there are many radical stylistic changes along the way, as for better or worse, Mould’s style has remained steady over the years.  Overall, Blue Hearts is a thoroughly enjoyable, ideologically charged outing that should find appreciation amongst life-long Bob Mould fans, as well as those with a more casual uptake.