With occasional reflection on the perpetual absurdity/intrigue of life and society in general.

Thursday, June 30, 2022

The Optical Files #91: Hüsker Dü - Candy Apple Grey (1986)


When I wrote about Flip Your Wig last time, I had no idea the random number generator would give me the opportunity to round off my Hüsker Dü coverage so soon! Candle Apple Grey finds the band signing to a major label, cleaning up their production, & continuing to diversify their sound. It also shows the first clear signs of the schism between Hart & Mould--at times it sounds like a pair of competing EPs rather than an LP by a unified band. 

Grant has said that in retrospect, it was a damaging moment in their relationship when the label chose 2 of his songs ("Don't Want to Know If You Are Lonely" & "Sorry Somehow") as the album singles. I can understand how this would be awkward for both of them in terms of power dynamics, no matter whose song was chosen--the decision of whose voice to amplify was being taken away from them & viewed through a capitalist lens. It just so happens, however, that in addition to being the most radio-friendly, those are also the 2 best songs on the album. The open chords & descending vocal melody of "Sorry Somehow" sounds a lot like fellow Minnesotans The Replacements, but "Don't Want to Know If You Are Lonely," with its shimmering, loving detachment & stop-start chorus, manages to sound characteristically Hüsker Dü while still standing apart from their catalog.

I have to be honest though: aside from those 2 singles, the album is rough going. Grant is in melodic mode here, while Bob is more confrontational, but it only works sometimes. The album's centerpiece is made of 2 eclectic Mould originals (the only time the album doesn't alternate between the 2 songwriters): "Too Far Down" is a searing, naked attempt to capture depression over an austere acoustic guitar. "Hardly Getting Over It" also makes use of acoustics, but here it's in the service of a polished radio rock sound with lots of sus chords. Bob sings in a breathy, emotional semi-whisper instead of his usual throaty bellow.

After Hart's piano ballad "No Promise Have I Made" turns into a blizzard of cymbal washes & pained howls until the drums enter to propel the song into its unresolved fadeout, the album closes on "All This I've Done For You," a Mould tune that comes closest to the classic Hüsker Dü sound: Bob's hammer-on guitar melodies, Grant's rapid-fire snare fills, & the 2 dueting on the main vocal. It's like a last hurrah of the band sounding like a band.

I don't love this album. It exists at the nexus of 3 events: the band signing to the majors, the songwriting starting to deteriorate, Bob & Grant's relationship starting to fracture. I don't know how all of those events influenced each other, but it seems pretty obvious that they are connected. The band would limp along for another year or so, but as much as it pains me to say it (& as much as the high points of this album make it easy to forget it), one of the greatest punk bands of all time went out with a whimper.

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