Now, I'd been a fan for, quite literally, decades, but was surprised to find that a lot that I thought I “knew” about Mould was skewed at best. I am, of course, assuming that the timeline and events put out in this book are accurate, and my take on this was off … but I was somewhat chagrined to find that my mental data on him and his bands was so substantially erroneous. I've been trying to wrap my mind around this diverging, and can only come up with the fact I wasn't plugged into much “rock media” for the past couple of decades, and so what I “knew” came from bits and pieces here and there, notes on albums (I have nearly all of Mould's discography at this point), and “rumor mill” stuff (like the wife of an old drinking buddy who had supposedly lived in the same dorm as Hüsker Dü at one point).
As mentioned above, I finished reading this a month or so back (I've not been able to triage any time for getting out to write reviews for quite a while), so the details have gotten a little hazy for me, and, unfortunately, there are only a couple of little bookmarks in here, one of which flags a place where I have no clue what I was wanting to go back to. Bummer. This means you're only going to be getting the broad strokes here … although with an autobiography like this, that's not necessarily a bad thing. Frankly, Mould sorts of sets it up for this approach in his approach to the book. In the Preface he writes (following noting “how integrated my personal and professional lives had finally become”):
One wonders how much of what the finished book is comes via the efforts of Mould's co-author, Michael Azerrad, a music journalist with a couple of other well-regarded books out there … and what sort of process was involved in the three years it took for this to get done (coming out in 2011). Speaking of “coming out” (nice segue, eh?), one of the more surprising (to me) parts of this is “the gay stuff” … of which there is quite a lot. One of the things he had been keeping secret for a long time was his sexual orientation … this based on both the somewhat homophobic vibe of the early punk scene, and having grown up in a very hostile environment for gays (he tells the story of a guy he knew who had returned to their old home town and ended up being gruesomely murdered). I had recalled that he had been “outed” by a magazine at some point (in the early 1990's), but had always heard that it was a “political” outing that caught Mould by surprise, but in reading this that doesn't seem to be exactly the case (and it was in Spin, rather than in the gay press, as I'd previously thought). He notes that he was very focused on writing gender-neutral lyrics for most of his albums, to not have this become an issue for some listeners. He certainly got over that by 2009, when his Life and Times solo album featured some songs which are fairly clearly written from a gay context.... writing this book was an emotionally taxing process. Even though my life and work have been on public display for many years, I have always been a very private person. My desire for privacy has often bordered on secrecy. The thought of revealing certain aspects of my personal life was hard to reconcile. As time progressed, I found myself losing track of certain memories. It felt like it was time to assemble the key pieces into a narrative. Instead of telling individual anecdotes (the typical memoir), I'm telling my story in order – and by doing so, I can see the patterns. In a way, I'm finally making sense of my life.
Frankly, not being much familiar with gay subjects, it was fascinating (if in a somewhat voyeuristic mode) looking in on his various relationships, and his coming to grips with being a gay public figure. In the course of the telling, he does take the reader into a lot of places that they might not ever have had occasion to go (such as the clothing-optional resort where he and his boyfriend are getting thrown out of in the opening story).
The other thing which was surprising (and this I had no inkling of), was his time with WCW – the wrestling operation. Mould had grown up a big wrestling fan, and was somewhat involved in it in his teens (some of Hüsker Dü's tour managers were from that world). Somewhat out of the blue, he got hired as a “creative consultant” in the fall of 1999, and was pretty much 24/7 with that (traveling constantly) until the spring of 2000, when the team he was part of got replaced by the WCW management. He called this his “dream job” … which is interesting for a rock star (whose regular job is the “dream job” of many) to say.
Another thread throughout the book is the subject of “substances”. Hüsker Dü had dissolved in a booze-and-drug-induced haze, and eventually Mould got cleaned up … primarily on his own. As I managed to get 30+ years of sobriety without A.A. (where I have since ended up trying to go for the “sanity” part that I sort of missed back when I got physically sober), I found his story on this of interest … especially as it had some remarkably direct parallels with my own experience … here's a key bit of this, about when he stopped drinking in 1986:
This is not a popular theme around the 12-step crowd, as it's a rare individual who can get and stay sober without the structure and support of a program, and I've even had AA folks question if I were really an alcoholic for getting sober without them, despite a rather indicative history (and I'm guessing they'd ask the same about Mould).It was a vivid and sudden realization: I had to catch myself and stop this addiction before it escalated any further. I was twenty-five years old and I said to myself, I've had a drink every day for twelve years. If I keep this up, I will not make it to thirty. I was a high-functioning alcoholic. I had scotch in my desk drawer, started drinking straight from the bottle at 2 PM, and could still complete a full day's work. It's great to be a high-functioning alcoholic – I could drink a fifth of scotch and drive just fine. It didn't interfere with my work, so why wouldn't I do it? No one ever pointed out the problem to me. … There was no program, no AA, no handbook … I did no twelve-step program and had no counseling. It was an act of sheer will-power, a testament to my ability to scare myself straight. … That was it. I haven't had a drink since.
Anyway, aside from these themes, most of the book is what you'd expect … tales from the road, tales from the recording studio, drama within bands, despicable “industry” folks, and a good deal of name-checking. Needless to say, this could have gotten quite ugly about the break-up of Hüsker Dü, but I think Mould deliberately pulled his punches there. He describes Grant Hart's descent into heroin addiction, and Greg Norton's fading interest in the music (and how he and Grant ended up re-recording Norton's bass parts on several songs on 1987's Warehouse: Songs And Stories), as well as issues with the label. If anything, the music parts reflect that “telling my story in order” idea here – which, while essentially structuring the book, somewhat makes the telling dry – with scenario after scenario being looked at, but without any point other than recording the facts. This is not to say that the writing is particularly “dry”, as there are some great descriptions of places and processes involved, like this bit on the recording of one of my favorites of Mould's albums, 1990's Black Sheets of Rain, at The Power Station in NYC:
While not being a substantial part of the book, in places here and there lyrics are quoted and discussed, which is probably more interesting to a long-time fan such as myself than to the casual reader. Another aspect here is how Mould acted as business manager in several phases of his career, and that is also an interesting look at dynamics of the music business that don't often get a strong light shined on them (especially when he'd hired a manager, who ended up screwing him out of his publishing rights for a couple of albums, exchanged for tour-support money from the label).I piled on so many layers of electric guitars that it felt almost claustrophobic. Then in the final mix stage, Steve Boyer and I enhanced the drums – already thick and huge from recording in Studio A, a cavernous wooden room with a churchlike peaked ceiling – with samples that made them sound colossal. Every part of the sound spectrum was saturated to maximum capacity.
Is See A Little Light a read for the non-fan? I don't know. Bob Mould's music has been “significant” in my life for over thirty years, so it's somewhat integral to who I am … making it hard to look at this with an uninvolved eye. It is, as noted above, a window into a lot of areas that one might not be otherwise privy to, from the gay lifestyle, to the wrestling business, to the music industry details. These are all interesting, and could provide enough hook for somebody who wasn't as familiar with the author's music to enjoy the book anyway.
The hardcover edition that I have has been out since 2011, with the paperback appearing a couple of years later (I don't know if there was any update between those). It appears that the hardcover is currently out of print, so is only available in the aftermarket, but you can get a “very good” copy for under two bucks (plus shipping). The on-line big boys have the paperback at only 10% off of cover, which suggests that its still selling fairly well, so you might be able to find it at your local brick-and-mortar, if you wanted to go that route. Again, this is a great read for the right fan base, but might be too narrowly-focused for the “general reader” … but I suspect you'll know which side of that line you fall!