By: Erin Sayer
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Bob Mould’s show at First Avenue Tuesday made me feel really old; though not as old as many of the fans that showed up to listen to the MPR-style interview and concert. Luckily the concert occurred during the Target Center’s uber-production of Blink 182 and Cypress Hill, so some of the heathens that usually barrage First Ave were duly busy across the street. First Ave was also relatively smoke-free Tuesday, as most Mould fans are nearing the ‘self-preservation’ stage of life and know smoking is bad.
The floor was blanketed with small cocktail tables, surrounded by tame-looking 30-to-40 somethings that acted nothing like the Hüsker fans they once were: moshers who shamelessly gave each other bloody noses in the 80’s. These days these same folks stand still with eyes closed, bob their heads and say, ‘Excuse me,’ while showing off faded and saggy tattoos. After Mould played a few Sugar songs, a balding guy went up and started the tamest mosh pit I’d ever seen.
Mould had begun the set acoustically with a tight Wishing Well, and proceeded to revisit Workbook. (Unfortunately I didn’t write down the set list because I didn’t know I would be writing about the show, so I’m still trying to piece together the echos in my brain.) Mould continued with reflective, intense, and intimate versions of See a Little Light, Poison Years, and Dreaming I Am. He captivated like Bono—the audience was quiet, and listened intently.
Mould pulled a few out of Black Sheets of Rain, a melodic It’s Too Late, and then switched to electric. He played Helpless, and If I Can’t Change Your Mind, Believe What You’re Saying as if David Barbe and Malcolm Travis were on stage with him, but I couldn't help but wish he would just play acoustic. Mould is at the point in his career when artists often play almost indistinguishable versions of their own songs – very neo-Dylanesque. Lonely Afternoon and Compositions for the Young and Old to Sing took me a minute to recognize. I wanted to rock out so badly but remained content to simply imagine myself head-banging instead of actually doing it.
Every time I see Mould, I’m whisked away to high school art class; in those days he helped me define myself as an outcast that bonded with other outcasts by lauding the genius of Zen Arcade and Candy Apple Grey while everyone else was into Madonna, Janet Jackson and Tiffany. It always makes me feel excited and even giddy to see him live, especially at First Avenue. Yes, I am biased, but I'm not the first to say Bob Mould will always be an influential songwriter, delivering passionate, cathartic, beautiful music to use as inspiration, and help us avoid mainstream American ‘culture.’
Pete Scholtes talks about Hüsker Dü's Zen Arcade in his "I Hate 1984"series in his blog.
Location Info:
First Avenue
Artist Info: Bob Mould
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