Album Review: Blue Hearts by Bob Mould (by Chris Bishton)

By my reckoning, Blue Hearts is Bob Mould's thirteenth solo album. That's more than the combined output of Hüsker Dü and Sugar. It also comes just over a year after his last album, Sunshine Rock, was released and is his fifth in the last eight years. By any measure, that's pretty bloody prolific. So, does another album mean his standards have dropped? Not a chance! In fact, I say this new one is Mould's best in those last eight years.

With Blue Hearts, Mould is clearly fired up. I've always said that of all the bands I've seen live, throughout both my youth and adulthood, Bob Mould is consistently and without doubt the loudest of them all. Now, with this new album it's like he wants to inject that fabulous, ear ringing sensation directly into my brain. It's an album stacked with raging, passionate and angry songs with the familiar socio and political commentary we'd expect. Overall there's 14 tracks and only one of them is longer than three minutes. It demands to be played loud and it demands that you pay attention. Mould certain holds firm to his punk roots with this one.

Having said all of that, the first song is nothing like that! Heart On My Sleeve is an acoustic track. For a moment I think my stylus is knackered or the record is defective because, much as I love my vinyl, there's almost too much crackle on this. But I quickly realise this is part of the recording, almost as if it's intended to sound analogue. However, it isn't what I would call a typically beautiful acoustic punk song. Rather, it's haunting, referencing everything from climate change to broken government and he then sings "we're going to war, we're going to die." Whatever you do, don't put this one on your Christmas morning playlist.

From here on though, he cranks it up. Next Generation is an absolute blast. It's got a Hüsker Dü-esque zing to it and sets you up for the core of the album that follows.

Sadly, American Crisis could be about anything – George Floyd, the rise of far right, just anything the Trump administration says or does or the coronavirus. "Wake up everyday to see a nation in flames," he sings, "world turning darker everyday in a fucked up USA." Straight up, cataclysmic, matter of fact punk rock commentary, from a man that was singing about a US administration's mishandling of another health crisis with Hüsker Dü back in the 80s when Reagan refused to accept the threat, importance and even the existence of AIDs. "Never thought I'd see this bullshit again, to come of age in the 80s was bad enough," he screams. It's so depressing he's able to draw these parallels decades apart, but it's the best and most passionate track on the album.

Fireball follows and is another really punchy song with Hüsker Dü vibes, but the album then seems to pause for breath with Forecast Of Rain. It's sung emotionally, is slower and thoughtful. But, this direction is short lived. When You Left and Siberian Butterfly come next, cranking up the pace and fervour again. I particularly like the latter, Siberian Butterfly – a singalong song if ever I've heard one!

There are a couple of moderately slower songs as the album draws to a close, but they're still punctuated with bangers like Racing To The End, Password To My Soul and Little Pieces, before it finishes with The Ocean – a longer song that starts sedately enough before that tranquility is shattered by crashing guitars and feedback.

This really is Mould's best album for a while. That's not to say his others have been duds either! I always told myself that the day Riot Fest pulled off another coup by getting Hüsker Dü to reform would be the day for me to cross the Atlantic to go to that festival. That, sadly, can now never happen, but for me the next best thing will be getting to see him perform these new songs mixed in with all his previous classics. Blue Hearts is fast and furious, with echoes of Candy Apple Grey era Hüsker Dü. I love it and, if you're a fan of those previous high standards, you'll love it too.

Stream and download Blue Hearts Bandcamp here.

Like Bob Mould on Facebook here.

This review was written by Chris Bishton.