Bob Mould
Beauty & Ruin

You say Bob Mould and immediately think that his voice would overwhelm you even if he were reading a shopping list and the sound of his guitar would set your heart ablaze even while playing «Frère Jacques».

You say Bob Mould and immediately think of the epic of the Hüsker Dü.

You say Bob Mould and immediately go out to buy «Beauty & Ruin», because there are albums worth purchasing blindly without fear of disappointment.

Those who feared disappointment perhaps avoided taking home the beautiful «Silver Age» two years ago and regretted it, the coward, because with that album Bob redeemed some not-so-convincing performances and returned to play pure and simple, damned rock'n'roll with the energy and passion worthy of the last Hüsker Dü, those of «Candy Apple Grey» and «Warehouse», to be clear.

Today «Beauty & Ruin» surpasses «Silver Age» in beauty, while still thankfully being nothing other than pure and simple, damned rock'n'roll.

It's true that the days of «Hardly Getting Over It» and «These Important Years» are gone and won't return, and it's a good thing, but the most evident merit of «Beauty & Ruin» is that it doesn't give way to regrets and nostalgia. In fact, perhaps the time of Hüsker Dü doesn't even come to mind when listening to «Beauty & Ruin», because none of its songs seem like they could come from one of their albums, and I mean this as a merit for Bob; it would be pathetic, on the contrary, to want to tell the same old story, twenty-seven years after that story was buried.

And if twenty-seven years seem like a lot to you, it probably means you're getting old and can't conceive how a man with white beard and thinning white hair due to significant baldness, notorious myopia, sagging cheeks, and scattered wrinkles could make such a dynamic and engaging record.

We young people, on the other hand, know well how all this is possible. It's that the man is imbued with the sacred fire of rock'n'roll, the kind that burns you inside and isn't even extinguished by death.

Mind you, dear old folks, that we are not talking about just any Mick Jagger who at seventy goes around telling the same old story mentioned above, because over there, the sacred fire has been out for decades and even the ashes have been swept away.

Here, I and the young folks like me are shouting that the story is entirely different, that of Bob Mould and an extraordinary album such as «Beauty & Ruin».

Extraordinary, for the ability to condense in half an hour so many emotions that you can't even find in one of today's 5 CD deluxe editions. And anyway, it's not mandatory to cram a CD to the extreme just because it can hold up to eighty minutes of sound; a CD isn't a post-war bus where the conductor acted as a gatekeeper, shouting «Come on, there's room».

Extraordinary, because Bob Mould finally takes off the mask, and forget hardcore, forget punk, here there's only the eager drive to compose songs and melodies destined to last, and perhaps someone might whistle them in the shower, while shaving or driving to work. And don't tell me you didn't know, because you already knew «Turn It Around»: Hüsker Dü played power pop, imagine if Bob plays something different. What's more, the melody hidden behind an imposing wall of sound is a triviality that doesn't change the substance of things, and if you give a listen to «I Don't Know You Anymore», tomorrow in the shower you'll have a good way to pass the time.

Extraordinary, because «Low Season» is Neil Young of the highest caliber just when Neil Young releases one of those vacuities that cyclically announce the next masterpiece; because «I Don't Know You Anymore» is a great ballad in the style of the Ramones, and you'd sell your soul to the devil to hear what it would sound like sung by Joey; because «Fire In The City» is the Mega City Four and pop punk before pop punk became Green Day. And it raises the doubt whether Bob Mould was inspired by all of them or vice versa; anyway, extraordinary.

Extraordinary, because «The War» is the song of the year and aspires to enter the exclusive list of the songs of a lifetime; because it encompasses all the simple perfection of rock'n'roll, intro-verse-verse-bridge-solo-verse-outro; and the intro has the same power as that of «Cretin Hop», and definitely so because the cover of «Sheena Is A Punk Rocker» was the last sign of discographic life for Hüsker Dü, so don't even try to argue.

Extraordinary, because the young Mould with bristly hair, gaze to the ground, and a cigarette between his lips portrayed on the cover, inherited that cigarette butt directly from Ian Curtis and Joe Strummer.

Extraordinary, because «Beauty & Ruin» raises only one question, that of choosing sides.

Which side are you on, at the Circus Maximus at the Rolling Stones concert or in the shower singing at the top of your lungs «I Don't Know You Anymore» and «The War», mimicking the riffs with your indestructible air guitar?