Bob Mould Biography

Bob Mould - District Line

How do you build on a quarter-century legacy and catalog as a living legend and trailblazer of alternative rock? When you're 47-year-old vet Bob Mould, you ignore such accolades, and go straight to making hair-raisingly emotional, undeniably catchy, loud, mature guitar rock albums. Yes, he was an '80s punk pioneer with Husker Du, and indie rock god with '90s juggernaut, Sugar. But in between and since, Mould has unleashed a half-dozen uncompromising solo LPs, unafraid to follow inspirations where they've led - from 1989's Richard Thompson-influenced Workbook to 2002's dancefloor-minded Modulate.

Now, following 2005's acclaimed, return-to-bracing Body of Song, Mould is poised to rip the roof off further with the hard-hitting, elastic District Line - his first for Anti Records. Ace Fugazi drummer Brendan Canty returns from Body of Song, as the perfect backbone to Mould's determined guitar riffs, insistent basslines, and passionate, vulnerable singing. (Amy Domingues also again adds beautifully bittersweet cello.) Recorded in a Washington D.C. warehouse space with a mobile studio, District Line is a dozen flavors of Mould's inspired, instantly memorable, melodic songwriting and playing. The inimitable blasting, bursting, guitar-smacked choruses of "Stupid Now," "Who Needs to Dream," "Return to Dust," "The Silence Between Us," and "Very Temporary" sit comfortably with the folk-tinged "Again and Again" and "Walls of Time," the more fanciful "Miniature Parade," and the electronic-laced postpunk dance stomp, "Shelter Me."

"Body of Song was written over the course of five years," remembers Mould. "Whereas this one was written in a concentrated period starting with 'Stupid Now.' I started with a few ideas when Body came out [in June 2005]; then I wrote a lot of material in the start of '06. That summer, I settled in a lot more writing as I was finishing up stuff. And the last song, 'Walls of Time,' was a [1989] Workbook song that didn't make that record. It seemed like a really appropriate closer for this record, when it popped back into my head."

The title nods to home base. "I've been in D.C. for five years," he notes. "And this record really sums up the past five years of being here. These are funny stories about me and my friends' things I see or overhear. It's been a very positive experience, and District Line is my way of putting it down in a book." And whereas fans formerly feared for his sanity after hearing his records, he laughs, "I'm generally content, now! But there's also a lot of sadness on the record; there's some loss - not gigantic, but it's there. It's being content with understanding loss."(Hint: see "Old Highs New Lows.")

Of course, few have had a more storied history and experience to draw on as a wiser older head. It is near impossible to calculate the level of impact or influence that Husker Du has had on the last two decades of modern rock, from the Pixies to Nirvana, to Green Day to Daft Punk - and 100 punk-inspired bands that have battered the public sphere since. Perhaps no band since the Ramones did more, thanks to constant touring and a feverish recording schedule that produced eight astounding albums in six years (two of them doubles), such as the acknowledged classics, Zen Arcade and Candy Apple Grey.

Likewise, Mould's estimable 18-year solo career, launched upon the Huskers' 1987 dissolution, has proved as durable and intensely respected, from the days of Workbook and 1990's harrowing Black Sheets of Rain - interrupted by Sugar's three wildly popular, positively piledriving rock albums, particularly the beloved Copper Blue, NME's 1992 "Album of the Year" - to such modern maulers as 1996's Bob Mould, 1998's The Last Dog and Pony Show, and Body of Song (and his October 2007 DVD debut, Circle Of Friends, live from Washington D.C.'s 9:30 Club).

Now, after nearly 30 years of such yeoman work, Mould in District Line is far from an icon trying to summon faded glories. Rather, his lyrics reflect forthrightness that has carried over from his earlier works and maturity that has developed since. "As I get older my life gets simpler," Mould laughs with real satisfaction. District Line is the manifestation of a thinking man's constant evolution. Emotional twists and turns thread throughout the album: "All the triggers pulled at once / So begins my ugly fall from grace," he insists on "Again and Again." Yet, whereas on Body of Song he sang, "This would be / The sound of me / Looking for some kind of closure," he's now come full circle on the crushing District Line climax, "Return to Dust," singing, "Growing old it's hard to be an angry young man."

That lyric is the last that Mould wrote for the record, and is undeniably the album's emotional centerpiece. "When you're younger it's very simple to be like that, but you get over it," he explains. "It's not a new idea in this line of art; Pete Townshend has talked about how the aging process is what we all make it to be - that we can't try to fight it. And I see that on a daily basis: people dying their hair, getting facelifts, getting a growth hormone to delay the inevitable - men and women alike. But at this point in my life I embrace it. Because in my 40s, I have never felt so comfortable in my own skin, or so calm. All that anxiety - that stuff falls away as you start to realize that time is moving differently and it is a finite concept in terms of our earthly existence. All the things I used to worry about are not that big a concern any more. Maybe now I have the answers and I just don't know it?" he laughs again.

And yet, as if to refute these candid, serene admissions, it's hard to think of a more energizing, smashing, nay, youthful record than District Line. Perhaps Mould remains so vital because his life never slipped into rote regurgitation. Ten years ago he went on sabbatical, writing wrestling scripts; now when not writing, recording, and touring, he stays busy penning a weekly column called, "Ask Bob," for Washington City Paper (also widely read online), while DJing the D.C. 9:30 Club (and New York) party Blowoff with Richard Morel (the two collaborated on a crisp Blowoff LP last year). "I can't emphasize how much I look forward to that party every month," he exclaims. "There's this other side of me. As a gay man, I never addressed my community. It's not the most important part of what I do, but it's an important part of who I am, and throwing this crazy ass party that 1000 people come to and have a great time dancing to, for years - I'd have never imagined!"

But does he ever relax? "When I am home, my thing is having friends over for dinner and working on my yard." For the prolific Mould, that's different.