You’ve just produced a pretentious double album, where do you go? If you’re The Beatles, keep producing crap, because you’re The Beatles and you suck. If you’re Bob Dylan, keep singing like a drugged cat on a chalkboard, because that’s your thing that you do. But if you’re Hüsker Dü, you rein it in a little and produce some happier songs. Zen Arcade was a dual petroleum slab combining their earlier brand of ineffective thrashy hardcore with psychedelic instrumental posturing, giving us a few good songs, a number of okay songs, and plenty of cheap filler. Nevertheless, it was praised for its invention, although it didn’t make the top 500 album list from Rolling Stone, which drools over The Beatles, Bob Dylan, token credibility-grabbing nods to the spheres of other genres and other types of rock, and double albums (evidenced by Minutemen’s Double Nickels On The Dime making the back end of the list, four double albums in the top ten, and of the top ten, twelve of them are Beatles and Dylan records). The presence of The Clash’s Sandinista! seven places above the Minutemen double LP can only be attributed to the fact that the people who compiled the list were aroused by it being a triple album, because it was a triple stinker in terms of quality.
However, being regarded as influential on rock as they apparently have been, those boneheads had to fit Hüsker Dü in somewhere. Scraping in at 495 on the list, compiled in 2003, at the opposite end of the list where the captains of the industry were voting on the records they wanted to keep selling, was the follow-up single disc New Day Rising. The fuzz remains, but the ambitious sprawling influences on Zen Arcade have been replaced by straight rock, and hardcore was instead blended with a strong dose of melody and familiarity.
Having said that, this is no flawless frisbee. For what is essentially a much more concise record, we’re given something of a soundpiece to start with. Pounding drums, an upbeat guitar and a positive mantra (literally the album title, over and over) give us the signal that the band’s in a different mood. However, it just keeps on going. The mantra becomes gradually sort of howled and screamed by the band members, which is probably supposed to be symbolic of how they’re still hard, or giving us false hope, or painting an aural picture reminiscent of Edvard Munch’s “The Scream”, or something else we don’t care about. Anyway, it gets boring after a while. “New Day Rising” is followed by Grant Hart’s “The Girl Who Lives On Heaven Hill”, which has a long title because the chorus is a longer line than Hart usually challenges himself to repeat during most choruses. For a track with a reasonably aggressive guitar, it’s quite a fun track, except for the vocals. Whether you like his voice or not, having it so low in the mix really messes with your ability to listen to the song.
A poor start. Have the media moguls screwed up again, even on their attempts to claim some integrity? Bob Mould strikes back with what would become a trademark. “I Apologize” has the fuzzy guitar and occasional strangled scream of the Hüsker Dü of old, but more pop melody than their entire double album from the previous year. And there’s plenty more to come. “Folklore” lasts all of ninety-six seconds, Mould’s vocals are rushed, the guitars are rushed, Hart is screaming in the background, and it’s not as sugary as the previous track, but it still smacks of a band getting a more palatable sound, although they were still some way from 1987’s Warehouse: Songs And Stories. So they’ve even picked a transitional record as their favourite Dü record?
“If I Told You” sees a rare writing collaboration between Mould and Hart, with the latter providing lead vocals. This is more or less unheard of, given the infamous friction between the two. Hart clearly wrote the chorus, and some of the vocals are garbled, but it’s still got plenty of friendliness to it. The album’s promotional track appears even more so, but “Celebrated Summer” is a bittersweet summer anthem. Greg Norton’s buoyant basslines and cymbal-heavy percussion courtesy of Hart that are pretty consistent throughout the album are here as strongly as anywhere. Mould’s ambivalent ode to summer contains plenty of half-shouted vocals and aggressively played guitar, albeit with brighter chords, but once in the middle and at the end, everything’s stripped away bar a picked guitar and a couple of whispered lines. The band gradually builds back in along with the tempo after the first respite, and we get a good chunk of extra song before the second one closes the song out gently.
After closing out an accessible song so quietly, you’d expect to be kicked in the nuts with a more aggressive stomper of a track. Judging from instrumental rehearsals, that’s exactly what they were planning to do. Instead, we’re served up with “Perfect Example”, which sounds like the outro to “Celebrated Summer” being recycled, given a gentle band backing and a touch of distortion. Mould rambles and is barely audible, and while it’s not horrible, it’s a shame to end the first half of the album with it, especially knowing that a different track was going to appear in that spot.
The second half kicks off in a jaunty mood, despite the track being called “Terms Of Psychic Warfare”. Hart sounds like he’s gloating, there are some high-pitched backing wails, and the guitar and bass riffs are cheery to the point of being quite irritating. On the plus side, not only is the title not the chorus (can you imagine having that line repeated at you and not hating it?), Hart manages not to utter it in full a single time. Outrageous! Mould gets back at the helm and gives us a song with bipolar disorder. Nervous, scattered drums, anxious guitars, and incoherent mumbling make up the verses. The music winds up into faster tempos with a howled choral refrain that recalls Zen Arcade and the Metal Circus extended player, leaving us a song that may not be a highlight, but has a very interesting character.
Following in the footsteps of “59 Times The Pain” is “Powerline”, a shorter and more level-headed song that has a more hypnotic quality to it, with its metronomic snare and relatively smooth guitar, and Mould’s vocal delivery subdued slightly in volume, but not to the damaging extent of “The Girl Who Lives On Heaven Hill” or “Perfect Example”. The frenetic, rising guitar solo at the end is almost in danger of being too low in the mix as well, which sees Norton’s swirling bass surprisingly high up, but it holds its own, and a relatively straight song garnished with plenty of small unusual nuances becomes something much more interesting. Some old-time feel-good piano prances above the mix in Hart’s final offering, “Books About UFOs”. He espouses his infatuation with a girl who’s obsessed with astronomy. Sweet occasional backing vocals, a charming guitar solo dated not too dissimilarly to the piano tinkling, and a sort of spoken verse section make “Books About UFOs” stick out like a sore thumb, and while it may not be representative, it is quite infectious.
From here, the album sounds like it’s gradually regressing into Zen Arcade mode. “I Don’t Know What You’re Talking About” hybridises melodic choruses with an aggressive chorus, and isn’t especially memorable. “How To Skin A Cat”, on the other hand, is memorable, if perhaps for the wrong reasons. Mould’s amusing but slightly disturbing business proposition for skinning cats for free is backed by an incomprehensible din. For an album that has pushed songs with structure consistently since the opening salvos, you can’t help but feel that there’s no place on it for this steaming pile of sonic gloom. “Whatcha Drinkin’” sounds quite generic, although a nice tempo change gives it a little bit of flavour. It’s passable as a back-end-of-an-album track, but needs better support than “How To Skin A Cat”. “Plans I Make” is the closer, and it’s a fast rager that almost recalls Zen Arcade in its most aggressive moments, brighter chords being all that separates it from “Indecision Time” or “Pride”. It descends into another din, with some anguished screams from Mould. Nevertheless, it too is easier to forgive than “How To Skin A Cat”, having some sort of song structure in the first half, and its descent into chaos doesn’t disrupt the flow of the album, bookending it as it does with the other acceptable mess of a track, “New Day Rising”, which was inexplicably included in Rolling Stone’s top 100 guitar tracks list, once again scraping the bottom, indicative of credibility-searching.
So what of the two tracks that didn’t make the cut? “Listen” and “Erase Today” are fine, powerful Mould rockers that fall under the two minute mark. “Listen” is bright and punchy, but was substituted for “Perfect Example” for reasons which can presumably only be explained by artistic licence. “Erase Today” is a little more reserved, and was cut in favour of “Powerline”, which makes sense at first glance, and would be easier to swallow if “How To Skin A Cat” had also been cut out.
Despite all of its shortcomings, the one thing Rolling Stone did right in this scenario is pick New Day Rising as the Hüsker Dü representative. It contains enough of the ear-shredding distortion and aggression of their old days, and the melodic songcraft of their final years. It even has a cover that violently assaults retinas less than most of the band’s catalogue. However, in part because of these reasons, it’s hard to visualise many people actually picking it as their favourite album, but a second favourite is more feasible. If you like their smarter compositions, there’s Warehouse, if you like their more experimental hardcore, there’s Zen Arcade (how many times have I referred to it here?), and if you want music to throw chairs to, there’s Zen Arcade again, or better yet, Metal Circus. As is the way with Hüsker Dü review, a “should have been” tracklist is provided. I’ve even put my neck on the line and explained the logic (or lack thereof). “If I Told You” is swapped in position with “The Girl Who Lives On Heaven Hill” to make the album more accessible before waiting for the third song, “I Apologize” moves below “Folklore” to ensure that “…Heaven Hill” is surrounded by clear catchy songs. “Listen” takes its rightful place closing out the A-side, and the B-side begins with “59 Times The Pain”. “Books About UFOs” is brought up the list a bit, “Erase Today” comes in, and “Terms Of Psychic Warfare” is dropped further down to prevent the album sound like it’s tailing off into the past.
New Day Rising is nevertheless a good hardcore experience in its current form, and I’d recommend it to anyone who listens to punk or altenative rock (are they the same thing now?). There’s no point recommending it to hardcore fans because they will already have heard it. Don’t do it because it’s in a Rolling Stone list, because taking that list seriously means that you like The Beatles. Having said that, don’t check it out on my say-so either, there’s no such thing as too much research, unless your sources are trying to sell you the Capitol Records catalogue.
Personal picks: Powerline, Celebrated Summer, Listen
Picks for others: Celebrated Summer, I Apologize, Books About UFOs
Relative weaknesses: Perfect Example, How To Skin A Cat
Tracklist
01 – New Day Rising
02 – The Girl Who Lives On Heaven Hill
03 – I Apologize
04 – Folklore
05 – If I Told You
06 – Celebrated Summer
07 – Perfect Example
08 – Terms Of Psychic Warfare
09 – 59 Times The Pain
10 – Powerline
11 – Books About UFOs
12 – I Don’t Know What You’re Talking About
13 – How To Skin A Cat
14 – Whatcha Drinkin’
15 – Plans I Make
Author’s recommended tracklist
01 – New Day Rising
02 – If I Told You
03 – Folklore
04 – I Apologize
05 – The Girl Who Lives On Heaven Hill
06 – Celebrated Summer
07 – Listen
08 – 59 Times The Pain
09 – Books About UFOs
10 – Powerline
11 – Erase Today
12 – I Don’t Know What You’re Talking About
13 – Terms Of Psychic Warfare
14 – Whatcha Drinkin’
15 – Plans I Make
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