While music in the UK, post new wave and post-punk, was struggling to retain its integrity, its vitality, and frankly, its relevance, over the pond, and pretty much going unnoticed, was a new sound and energy from the likes of The Minutemen, Black Flag and Husker Du. Between them they were crafting an utterly raw sound that was almost invariably ferocious, angry and loud, but imbued with a maverick inventiveness and melodious streak epitomised by Husker Du's 1984 double album Zen Arcade. A record so powerful and dynamic, it remains to many ears a jaw dropping blast of sublime essence, of aggressive amplified music, created by just three men, Bob Mould being one of them.

An unexpected signing to a major label saw them becoming more than just the secret love of leftfield music journos and underground fans, and by the time of the rise of Nirvana and The Pixies, Mould was being almost deified. Not only as a musician of intense integrity, but as a man who wore his heart on his sleeve, a hero of sorts for the disenfranchised, about whom he often wrote about, as well as himself. Live on stage he gave it all. Footage of Husker Du shows a man completely zoned out in his music, and at a solo gig here in Brighton in the mid-90s, blood was pouring from his fingers as he strummed cathartically at his acoustic guitar, such was the intensity and passion that he delivered on stage.

Now bald, grey in beard, and 55, Mould is a near 40-year veteran of the music biz. A survivor even, having managed to control his Husker Du drug abuse days, periodic bouts of depression, and dealt with coming out as a gay man, whilst dabbling in other things than pure guitar music (such as his electronic phase). He set up a dance music collaboration with dance producer Richard Morel called Blowoff, (Mould himself DJs), wrote his memoirs (See A Little Light: The Trail of Rage and Melody) and finally returned to his hardcore punk roots with the release of 2012's Silver Age, followed by Beauty & Ruin in 2014 and now this, all three on Merge Records.

Patch The Sky continues where the other two teft off; largely big and melodic guitar songs that feature that distinctive Mould guitar sound, interspersed with some neat lines and of course, his penchant for really letting rip when the occasion demands, such as on opener ‘Voices In My Head’, the popish ‘Hold On’ and ‘Losing Time’. In fact, it once again feels like he's reaching back to the post Zen Arcade, period of Flip Your Wig and Warehouse: Songs and Stories, where the band amalgamated their hardcore punk leanings with college style rock in songs such as ‘Makes No Sense At All’ and ‘Could You Be The One’. And like those Husker Du days, it's just a three piece, this time Mould accompanied by the powerhouse rhythm section of bassist Jason Narducy and drummer Jon Wurster, who imbue Mould's songs with enough lightness of touch to allow Mould's slashing guitar technique to drive the material.

Yep, he's 55, but Mould is still talking about hopelessness, identity and loneliness (he's said that he's recently been through some hard emotional times, that he withdrew from life in order to get these thoughts down in song form, and that music basically represents his salvation), and that while 'the words make you remember, the music makes you forget'. And whilst there are some marginally less frenetic moments such as the heavy mid-tempo drone of ‘Black Confetti’ and the classic rock sound of ‘Daddy's Favourite’, Mould is still reaching for that sweet spot where his bright melodies are balanced with dark stories within a maelstrom of pure amplified ferocity. We should be thankful for that.
Jeff Hemmings