Read: Bob Mould’s Autobiography

See a Little Light: The Trail of Rage and Melody, published by Little, Brown and Company, not only fills in the gaps about the Husker Du frontman's story, it provides a heretofore unglimpsed view of the mind behind the music.

By Sam Baltes

While most musicians get eclipsed by the shadow of their youth, Bob Mould is anomalous. With a résumé that includes co-founding the seminal Husker Du, fronting Sugar, a critically lauded solo career, and serving as a World Championship Wrestling scriptwriter, it's clear that Mould disdains stagnation, and this memoir (co-written with Michael Azerrad) attests to his inexhaustible ability to produce compelling material.   

While Mould's abysmal youth is no secret, getting the story from the source provides a better understanding of the man and the impetus behind his music. Born in a rural New York town under the roof of a capricious alcoholic, Mould learned early on to be "Hyper-vigilant" -- this entailed maintaining constant focus on every variable in his environment. A self-described "golden child" with an aptitude for numbers, he was the mortar of his family structure, and strove to extinguish altercations before they conflagrated into domestic violence. At one point in his childhood, Mould was sexually abused by a babysitter, and he ascribes this as a partial catalyst behind the emotional problems that afflicted him later in life. As Mould progressed into adolescence he became aware of his homosexuality and developed a love for punk rock/booze. These advents led to social alienation, and after learning that a gay schoolmate was disemboweled and hung from a tree in a nearby forest, Mould became obsessed with desire to "get out of this place." After leaving his hometown to attend college in Minneapolis, Mould was consumed by depression and anger, and when meeting two individuals who shared his musical tastes, he formed a band in which he was able to articulate his frustrations.

Bob Mould is a name synonymous with Husker Du, and part of the allure of this memoir is the prospect of a firsthand look at the band that he shared with bassist Greg Norton and drummer Grant Hart. While there has been no paucity of words devoted toward Husker in recent years, previous attempts at chronicling the band's history have been hindered by ambiguity concerning the last days of the band. Seeing that Mould was at the band's helm, his account is concise and devoid of extrapolation. He describes with absolute clarity the band's metamorphosis from "bright white radio static" to a maelstrom of apoplectic fury/melody, the drudgeries of touring (à la Get in the Van), and the eventual deterioration of the band dynamic. Adding to Mould's captivating narrative are anecdotal interactions with other prominent musicians of the era (ex. Bad Brains crashing in Hart's house only to smoke his stash and leave an anti-gay note). Mould is also candid about his substance abuse during this period, and describes himself as a "high-functioning alcoholic" during the majority of his Husker years.

Although proud of his run with Husker, Mould isn't nostalgic. He describes it as an "eight-year ground war that started with me and some guy smoking Thai stick in the basement of a record store." He is fair when chronicling his relationships with bandmates Hart and Norton, and avoids resorting to the ad hominem when voicing his beefs with the two. While only a third of the book is allotted to the group, Mould gives a near panoptic history that fills in gaps left from the Husker Du chapter in Azerrad's earlier book, Our Band Could Be Your Life, as well as Andrew Earles' recent Husker Du: The Story of the Noise-Pop Pioneers Who Launched Modern Rock. Seeing the band through Mould's perspective is illuminating, and his hitherto untold account of the group dissolving in Hart's kitchen with the latter's mom suggesting to "only play on weekends" dispels the fog surrounding the band's finis.

There is more to Bob Mould than his stint with Husker though, and he doesn't founder when chronicling his subsequent years. After Husker's disbandment, a sober Mould sequestered himself in a remote farmhouse, underwent an aesthetic transformation, and emerged with the first record (1989's Workbook) in a string of critically successful solo albums. Mould describes this time of his life as artistically fertile, albeit depressing-- he was uncomfortable with his sexuality and had unresolved personal issues. The formation of Sugar thrust Mould back into the public eye, and affirmed that he hadn't yet shot his creative bolt. But Mould soon tired of touring, and retired from music to focus on his personal life. Work has a propensity to find Bob Mould though, and shortly after his retirement he became a WCW scriptwriter. Even if you harbor no interest for the inner-workings of the professional wrestling industry, the absurdity of the environment Mould chronicles will keep you enthralled.

The last third of this book is allotted to Mould's immersion into gay culture, and his triumph over personal demons.  He details his initial dating awkwardness, and confessions such as "I could command an audience of sixty thousand...but wasn't sure how to act at the gay coffee shop" are touching. Mould also describes his infatuation with electronica, and his transformation from "miserablist" to bacchanalian DJ is humorous. At the age of 50, Mould appears to have found something not unlike happiness.

The book reads well, and despite Mould's attention to detail, the flow is never encumbered by minutiae. Azerrad's organizational talents no doubt helped the concision of his biography, but Mould is a good writer in his own right. Husker fans can finally get the full story behind the band's most enigmatic member, and anyone remotely curious about Mould will burn through this book. Bob Mould commits his entire being to his work, and this biography is no exception. It's heartfelt, informative, and you'd be hard-pressed to find a more engaging music read this summer.