Bob Mould - Silver Age

By: Joel Frieders

When I was in high school, one of my best friends had a cool older brother. He wasn't a dick to us because we didn't know good music from a glory hole in the wall, quite the opposite. He took it upon himself to make sure we knew who was who and who kicked ass at what, and more importantly why it mattered. He'd point out bands with dual Polish drummers or three Mexican guitar players or amazing licks or lyrics that tightened his sack, and his adoration of these bands and musicians, I think, are one of the reasons I'm so fruity for the shit now.

Sure, not all of his recommendations stuck with me as bands I'd want to suck off in a dark alley, but there were a few that resonated with me so much that when I hear them now I'm immediately nostalgic, if not aroused. One of the few that I remember with fond appreciation was the band Sugar, and more specifically the guy behind the sweetness, Bob Mould.

Bob had a voice that never really managed to overpower the distorted instrumentation he arranged, but rather meld into the music to make up a complete sound rather than a guy singing over a band. If you weren't paying attention, it sounded fucking full and powerful, but if you did happen to pay the Fuck attention it was a magical blur turned specifically intricate blending of words and raw amplitude.

So I love me the Fuck out of some Bob Mould brobiwon kenobe.

And since the world provides for you if you have your legs spread (ears open in this sense bro), Bob wrote me a new album titled Silver Age. I would like to personally thank Bob Mould for making this for me, because the timing was perfect, as the weather is getting a bit cooler so I have the winders rolled up so my nips don't rip holes in my tank tops, so I can dedicate the wind-less attention to music such as Bob's.

The first track I heard, which told me immediately that this was a fucking keeper, was the opener Star Machine, which if you're familiar with Bob Mould's guitar chops you should know this is fucking ridiculously hell yes. The choice of distortion on this dude's music is never off, but he seriously out-distortionz this shit to the point where I wanted to set a Sugar album on fire in homage to the new grunge this muthafucker drops within the first three minutes of the album starting.

Title track Silver Age has similarly hard cocked pistols taking aim at a bpm Mould fucking ruins at the lovely age of 77. Yes, that's correct, this guy is 68 years old and still one of the best power chording muthafuckers in the rap game.

If you're familiar, and Fuck it, even if you aren't familiar with Bob Mould, this entire album is a lesson on how to perfectly apply distortion to modern song writing without it sounding out of place, over powering or annoying. Tasteful is probably the best word I can find that doesn't have a hyphen connected to it and a penis reference.

Bob Mould will remain one of my Jesuses of rock, and until I meet him and hug him uncomfortably (for at least two straight minutes with a few weepy clutches and the occasional sniff and grunt thrown in for stalker points) I will continue to refer to him as my favorite 83 year old guitarist and songwriter.