Grant Hart
The Argument

Many times I have written on Debaser about my absolute, total love for Husker Du; they took me by the hand and introduced me to a type of Music that has since become a cornerstone of my endless listening experiences. My encounter with the Minneapolis-St. Paul power trio happened in the winter of 1984, when my ears were immediately devastated by the first listenings of that authentic Bible that was, and still is, Zen Arcade. I have always been fascinated by Grant Hart's appearance during the Husker days: a hippie-freak long past his prime. Overweight with more than a respectable "belly," but who knew how to play the drums in a unique and lethal way, even managing to sing on top of it. We all know how this enormous story ended, not only musically, with the dramatic and irreparable split during a tour between Grant and Bob.

Grant left us in September last year, consumed, annihilated by cancer; since then, I have found it unimaginably hard to listen again to his last recorded chapter, which I am trying to narrate to you today. Too "strong" is that photo of him on the back cover when the illness that was to lead to his death was already ravaging him. He appears emaciated and unrecognizable when compared with any of his images from the eighties.

Then, slowly, over the past few months, I somehow reconciled with The Argument and managed to listen to it again, feeling those inevitable emotional sparks that are impossible to describe with the cold keys of my computer. But at this point, another significant problem arose: my tremendous difficulty in extracting something good, in putting into writing everything I feel about the album, about Grant. It has always been like that, and it will always be so when I have to talk about my personal musical "pillars"; and it's not the first time I've found myself in these conditions since I've been on Debaser.

The desire to get to work, or at least to try, came to me this morning when I met my friend Marco, known here as Lewis Tollani; we talked about Music as we have done for decades in our meetings. He told me about the upcoming Johnny Marr concert in Milan that he will attend; we discussed at length the best album by Sepultura, the Felt, Metallica, Judas Priest, and inevitably we finally arrived at our Grant Hart. I explained to Marco about an idea I've had in recent days to start the review of The Argument: he gave me a hearty pat on the back, saying more or less this phrase, "Go on, Lorenz, this is an excellent starting point with your careful observation."

So let's go, my dear De...Marga...

I still must look back and return to the recordings of the last Husker Du album; that other sound monument titled Warehouse: Songs and Stories. Almost seventy minutes of auditory incandescence composed of twenty tracks; contractually, Bob and Grant had to split ten tracks each, both at odds for many reasons. But in the end, Bob imposed his dictate, imposed his strict will and wrote one more song. It ended 11 to 9, the classic straw that broke all the tensions that had been simmering for months. Grant harbored resentment for the betrayal of the deep friendship that had kept him tied to Bob through the band's incredible career. We are at the definitive breakup that would be sealed with the interruption of a concert and the band's departure during the promotional tour of the album. There will never be any reunions, they will never play together again.

The Argument is composed of twenty tracks; in my opinion, it's not a random choice by Grant. He knows he is ill, knows that not much time remains. This could be his last work, and so he wants to take a very personal revenge. It seems as if he wants to say to Bob: "Another twenty songs like Warehouse; but this time they are all written by me; this time I won, my dear Bob." It is precisely that: twenty to zero. Full stop and a new paragraph.

I have already written a lot, perhaps too much. I have spoken very little about the album, but I don't have much more to say.

It's an ambitious work, imposing given it exceeds 74 minutes. But not a single note is out of place; it's a sound testament that made me laugh, cry, rejoice, think.

It's the Grant I have always loved that I encounter in the listening; his voice is tormented, yet still capable of delivering emotions. Many emotions.

It's a concept album inspired by an unpublished story by William Burroughs: the fall of humanity seen from Lucifer's perspective.

A work that looks at all of Grant's past; there are harmonicas, music boxes, ancient instruments for a work that smells of the ancient, of the baroque.

It's enough for me to mention the wonderful second track "Morningstar" which is also my favorite. With that repeated chorus capable of taking me back in years, to those so-important years for me...You are, You are the Morningstar...

"These Important Years" to put it in Husker Du's words...

Thank you Grant, I will always love you dearly!!!

Ad Maiora.