The Story
Purchase includes CD insert signed by Bob Mould.
In 2019, Bob Mould bucked the eraās despair with his melodic, upbeat album Sunshine Rock. Cut to spring 2020, and he has this to say: āWeāre really in deep shit now.ā That sentiment informs his new full-length album, Blue Hearts, the raging-but-catchy yin to Sunshine Rockās yang.
To be sure, we were in some shit in 2018, when Mould recorded Sunshine Rock. Back then, he had a song called āAmerican Crisisā that didnāt fit the album. āThat song is the seed for what weāre talking about now,ā Mould says from his home in San Francisco during the COVID-19 lockdown.
āAmerican Crisisā is the third song in a walloping album that spits plainspoken fire at the people who fomented this crisis. āThis is the catchiest batch of protest songs Iāve ever written in one sitting,ā he says. Through some of the most direct, confrontational lyrics of his four-decade career, Mould makes his POV clear: āI never thought Iād see this bullshit again / To come of age in the ā80s was bad enough / We were marginalized and demonized / I watched a lot of my generation die / Welcome back to American crisis.ā
Why āwelcome backā? Because Mould experienced deja vu writing Blue Hearts in the fall of 2019. āWhere it started to go in my head is back to a spot that Iāve been in before,ā he says. āAnd that was the fall of 1983.ā Back then, Mould was a selfdescribed ā22-year-old closeted gay manā touring with the legendary Hüsker Dü and seeing an epidemic consume his community. Leaders were content to let AIDS kill a generation. Mould later realized why his mind wandered back there for Blue Hearts. āWe have a charismatic, telegenic, say-anything leader being propped up by evangelicals,ā he says. āThese fuckers tried to kill me once. They didnāt do it. They scared me. I didnāt do enough. Guess what? Iām back, and weāre back here again. And Iām not going to sit quietly this time and worry about alienating anyone.ā
Recorded at the famed Electrical Audio in Chicago with Beau Sorenson engineering and Mould producing, Blue Hearts nods to Mouldās past while remaining firmly planted in the issues of the day. Acoustic opener āHeart on My Sleeveā catalogues the ravages of climate change. āNext Generationā worries for who comes next. āAmerican Crisisā references āEvangelical ISISā and features this dagger of a line: āPro-life, pro-life until you make it in someone elseās wife.ā
āLeather Dreams,ā āPassword to My Soul,ā and āThe Oceanā were composed during a writing binge before a January 2020 Solo Electric tour, when Mould stayed up for three straight days. āSongs just kept coming out,ā he says. āāLeather Dreamsā and āThe Oceanā both appeared within hours. I barely remember writing them.ā
That feels right for an explosive, hook-laden album like Blue Hearts. Only thereās nothing forgettable about it.
Description
Purchase includes CD insert signed by Bob Mould.
In 2019, Bob Mould bucked the eraās despair with his melodic, upbeat album Sunshine Rock. Cut to spring 2020, and he has this to say: āWeāre really in deep shit now.ā That sentiment informs his new full-length album, Blue Hearts, the raging-but-catchy yin to Sunshine Rockās yang.
To be sure, we were in some shit in 2018, when Mould recorded Sunshine Rock. Back then, he had a song called āAmerican Crisisā that didnāt fit the album. āThat song is the seed for what weāre talking about now,ā Mould says from his home in San Francisco during the COVID-19 lockdown.
āAmerican Crisisā is the third song in a walloping album that spits plainspoken fire at the people who fomented this crisis. āThis is the catchiest batch of protest songs Iāve ever written in one sitting,ā he says. Through some of the most direct, confrontational lyrics of his four-decade career, Mould makes his POV clear: āI never thought Iād see this bullshit again / To come of age in the ā80s was bad enough / We were marginalized and demonized / I watched a lot of my generation die / Welcome back to American crisis.ā
Why āwelcome backā? Because Mould experienced deja vu writing Blue Hearts in the fall of 2019. āWhere it started to go in my head is back to a spot that Iāve been in before,ā he says. āAnd that was the fall of 1983.ā Back then, Mould was a selfdescribed ā22-year-old closeted gay manā touring with the legendary Hüsker Dü and seeing an epidemic consume his community. Leaders were content to let AIDS kill a generation. Mould later realized why his mind wandered back there for Blue Hearts. āWe have a charismatic, telegenic, say-anything leader being propped up by evangelicals,ā he says. āThese fuckers tried to kill me once. They didnāt do it. They scared me. I didnāt do enough. Guess what? Iām back, and weāre back here again. And Iām not going to sit quietly this time and worry about alienating anyone.ā
Recorded at the famed Electrical Audio in Chicago with Beau Sorenson engineering and Mould producing, Blue Hearts nods to Mouldās past while remaining firmly planted in the issues of the day. Acoustic opener āHeart on My Sleeveā catalogues the ravages of climate change. āNext Generationā worries for who comes next. āAmerican Crisisā references āEvangelical ISISā and features this dagger of a line: āPro-life, pro-life until you make it in someone elseās wife.ā
āLeather Dreams,ā āPassword to My Soul,ā and āThe Oceanā were composed during a writing binge before a January 2020 Solo Electric tour, when Mould stayed up for three straight days. āSongs just kept coming out,ā he says. āāLeather Dreamsā and āThe Oceanā both appeared within hours. I barely remember writing them.ā
That feels right for an explosive, hook-laden album like Blue Hearts. Only thereās nothing forgettable about it.












