This writer saw Bob Mould play a solo show in the winter of 2017 in the immediate aftermath of a New York City blizzard. The weather was no issue for the pride of Minneapolis. He walked up onto an empty stage, electric guitar case in hand. He took out the guitar, strapped it on, plugged in, and launched into an incendiary set, the sound huge, and the lack of a backing band no problem. At all. It was Mould in his purest form, everything else boiled away until only his essence remained. The undistilled Mould is a loud, distorted guitar and his voice underneath, fighting to be heard. Sunshine Rock, Mould’s latest, shows him continuing to rock hard, very much in the tradition of 2016’s Patch the Sky, but with interesting production moves that give the new album some sonic variety.
Mould, now living in Berlin, is best known for being one-third of the seminal alternative band, Hüsker Dü. He went on to form the beloved band Sugar, and has had an impressive, extensive solo career. He has an amazing pop sensibility that he cloaks in the aforementioned guitar-generated waves of noise. Patch the Sky was a bit of a departure, in that Mould gently evolved his familiar sound, taking some of the beloved slop out of his distortion; crafting darker, more complex vocal melodies; and popping the drums out of the mix. The result was a nearly flawless rock album and Sunshine Rock builds on that incredible work.
The new wrinkle of Sunshine Rock is the production. Mould features strings at several points throughout the album, giving tracks a grandeur one doesn’t associate with a guy who can command a room with just his voice and an electric guitar. However, that link between Mould’s voice and electric guitar is so baked into the DNA of Sunshine Rock that when he adds things like strings and new wave keyboards (as he does on “Sunny Love Song”), it doesn’t weaken the song. Mould’s fierceness can’t be blunted by classy production.
The fierceness isn’t always explicit. On “The Final Years,” the song kicks off with a New Order bass groove with a keyboard riff that would make The Killers proud. Violins kick in halfway through, giving the song an emotional lift. There are no distorted guitars, except that you can almost imagine Mould laying down the chugging song hook on loud electric guitar, and then replacing it with keyboards and violin. The guitar is present in the song, even when it’s subtle in the mix.
Sunshine Rock has lots of straight-ahead rock songs, too. “Sin King” has a huge drum sound, with Mould’s guitar and voice striving to climb the immense beat. “What Do You Want Me to Do,” with its relentless guitar hook, background vocals, and huge solo, could almost represent an alternative universe version of Van Halen, had they been driven by wisdom and introspection, rather than sun and parties.
At 12 tracks long, and finishing just under 37 minutes, Sunshine Rock is relentless. It’s heavy without being dark. It’s catchy without being light. And while the bones of the album are Mould and his electric guitar, he has very carefully added different touches, like strings and keyboards, that enhance the tracks without being distracting. Sunshine Rock is an album worth hearing.
