Bob Mould – Life and Times

Influential 80’s hardcore pioneer Bob Mould has dabbled in practically every alternative genre imaginable.  Hardcore (Husker Du), College Rock (Sugar), electronic indie (Blowoff), and his countless solo outings have kept Mould busy from the late 80’s to present.  His recent solo foray started with the release of 2005’s Body of Song, and has since found Mould making a name for himself in adult contemporary.

His latest outing, Life and Times, comes a short year after his 2008 ANTI- debut, District Line.  Personally, I enjoyed the casual pacing and relaxed feel of District Line for a short while, but the album failed to leave a lasting impression, and I haven’t felt the need to listen to it since.  Unfortunately, after a few listens, I fear 2009’s Life and Times will suffer a similar fate.

The good news is that in Life and Times Mould seems to have regained some of his spirit.  While in retrospect District Line lifelessly plodded along, Life and Times feels much more energetic. Mould spends less time adding electronic flourishes to his high notes and more time plugging away on his guitar.  True, there are some self-indulgent moments like “City Lights (Days Go By)” and “I’m Sorry Baby, But You Can’t Stand In My Light Any More,” but others like “MM17,” “Spiraling Down,” and “Argos” finds Mould returning to the basics that put him on the map.  Speedy guitars, the occasional lively solo, and a confident drumbeat help keep the experience moving.

Mould sounds as if he has a lot personally invested in Life and Times.  While not exactly an autobiography (that being reserved for next year), the album does feel like a pretty transparent, reflective piece.  There are stories chronicling past abusive relationships, and the challenges of finding a place in the middle-aged gay community.  At times the album feels like an outlet for Mould’s sexual and emotional frustrations, with comments about “the taste of last night’s sex” popping up on the reluctant “Bad Blood Letter.” Some will find his frankness discerning, other will find it refreshing.  Either way, it’s there and for a large part lyrically defines the album.

On a side note, with less electronic distortion, Mould feels more connected with his music that in past outings.  In songs like the previously mentioned “Bad Blood Letter,” Mould embraces his aging voice, singing in a vulnerable, weathered tone, well suited to the emotional subject matter.  I guess in a way Mould sounds washed-up, but he embraces it gracefully, making that fact seem less than detrimental.

Life and Times certainly has more personality than its predecessor, but I don’t think that has necessarily given it much more staying power.  The album still harmlessly plods along without any real stand-alone favourites or truly memorable moments.  But to its benefit, somehow it still finds itself teeming with personality and sincerity.  It’s not an album I’m going to find myself frequently navigating to on my iPod, but if by chance it starts playing, I won’t object to letting Life and Times run its course.