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Everyone of a certain age has their moment when a Bob Mould song either helped them speak the unspeakable or gave them such a cathartic rush that reminded one that everything was going to be ok as long as you weren't afraid to make some noise.
My moments are several: listening to 59 times the pain over and over for the six weeks I spent in Omaha, waiting to hear from a girlfriend who had already moved on; coming home from the same trip and hearing Too far Down in the URI student lounge, feeling exposed — only I knew that song, right?; being at the final 1987 Hüsker Dü Providence show, feeling sad but more alive than I probably had been all year, especially during Chartered Trips; the Brown show in 85, where Mould got sick of the assholes in the pit and lead the band through about a 60 minute punitive noise jam that had people pinned to the walls in pain; seeing him on the Workbook tour, with about 40 other people at a beach-side club in October, and wondering if this was going to be it for him. I read a review of Hüsker Dü's Candy Apple Grey when it had just come out, in which the writer said that Bob Mould always struck him as a frightened person. Given that the record featured such Mouldian odes to despair as Hardly Getting Over It and the harrowing, aforementioned Too Far Down, that is not so far a leap in judgment. A very early and much bootlegged outtake featured the line "Scared? You Bet I'm scared." This DVD is of the October 2005 show in D.C, one in which he seems finally relaxed and confident enough to explore some of the old songs, and even revel in them. I don't think Mould was so much afraid as wary, and angry at himself for being so cautious. The rage that fueled the timid and abused Pete Townsend to create punk and metal with his need for violent escape, strikes me as part of what Mould brought to the Hüskers. Rather than explore that idea further, let's just say go listen to Real World off Metal Circus and see if I'm on the right track. Emo has gotten it wrong in holding up Bob Mould as their hero; his was not a wallowing in personal pain to the point of whining; there was a purpose in his exposure: to air it out, face it, and blow it up. The best Bob Mould songs make you feel less alone, especially on the songs that hit too close to home, that are devastating to listen to if you catch them at the right time.
His intensity is still intact, on the basis of this show, though he seems more comfortable both with his past and with himself. In a career that has recent lead him to writing for the WWE and exploring Electronica, Mould seems at ease and ready to let it rip in this set. Backed by the rhythm section of former Fugazi member Brendan Canty and bassist Jason Narducy, Mould is assisted most by keyboardist and frequent collaborator Richard Morel. Morel's fills and vocals deepen the intensity of solo era tracks like Hoover Dam and Changes, plus the Hüsker's Could You Be The One?, tracks which seemed tepid and ponderous on record. The catalog of solo and Sugar tracks are prominent, most notably an incendiary See A Little Light — which Mould and the band whip through at a torrid pace; given his recent career tangents and the last decade of acoustic shows, it 's glorious to hear the raging Stratocaster back in action, complete with the passionate, shredding vocals. But c'mon, it is the Hüsker Dü covers that are rightly getting all of the drool, and why not? For years, Mould seemed about ready to puke just hearing the name Hüsker Dü, let alone thinking about covering any songs. But here he not only rips through several surprises with power and passion, he seems to be having fun with them as well. Hardly Getting Over It, I Apologize, Makes No Sense At All, Chartered Trips. As poor old Cyrus said so well in The Warriors: Can you dig it?! If breathing new and potent life into these songs is meaningful to Bob Mould — and by the occasional grin, I suspect it was — it is only more so for fans. Rightly or wrongly, Hüsker Dü meant something deep to its fans; like other bands from that period, like Replacements or Minutemen, the Hüskers were like family, and a trusted member at that. While Mould's solo career has often been distancing and too insular for fans to embrace, on Circle of Friends Mould airs out his history in a glorious burst of passion and generosity. Many tunes in the set list, and in his catalog, do paint a pretty picture of relationships and the world at large. But they are reminders that no one is alone, since most emotions are common to us all. And a little catharsis is all it takes to remind us of at least that momentary unity. This DVD is a must and a blessing for fans, and is a great introduction to a legend finally seeming to embrace his career in total.
The only extras are extended interviews with Mould and some of the band; not being the most verbose of guys, the interviews don't really offer much. |