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by R. Moore (Noise Fanzine) "A familiar guitar hook or riff occasionally surfaces, but before you place it, it disappears. The band exists on the sheer strength of it's music, nothing else."
"I almost lost my teeth during Husker Du the way people were dancing."
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First things first: a hearty "fuck off and die" to all of you lame Daytonian
"punks" who were over at the Hills be-bopping to Human Switchboard (sic) the
same night that Husker Du were putting every drop of their effort and energy
into the most intense, fuckin'-A-atomic harecore punk show Dayton has EVER
seen.
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Husker Du is Swedish for "Do You Remember?" Husker Du is a childs game.
Husker Du is one of the most intense and musically brilliant hardcore bands in
America.
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They started out 3 years ago with the same line-ip as they have today: | BOB MOULD-guitar GREG NORTON-bass GRANT HART-drums
Bob was a freshman in college, Grant was just out of High School as well and
working in a record shop and Greg was still in High School. Their first years
were tough, as no one appreciated hardcore and they had very little support,
save the Veggies. They played punk at a time when it wasn't really cool to
do so, not really giving in to the fashion/new wave.ska trends at the time.
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In November 1980 the released the Statues" single, which featured two of their
slower songs. At the same time, American hardcore was just coming onto
being and taking hold. Husker Du got swept up in the ranks.
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"Everybody thinks we went hardcore last week or something. That's not true at
all. We've got tapes of our second gig in July of 1979 and we still do lots
of those songs. They (the songs) were real fast then, but they're faster now.
The slow stuff is our other side, but we're not limiting our selves..."
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They've recently been under some criticism that they're a simple thrash
band and not complex at all.
| Grant: That's bullshit. Bob: Too bad for them if they've got such a narrow concept of what music is. I thougt all the stuff the bands are trying to do was supposed to be different music. So now there's a "hardcore" sound and it's right back to what we started out trying to get rid of...
The night before the show, the Huskers were hanging out and getting drunk
at Michelle's apartment. Bob picked up her gibson acoustic and began playing
a variety of things from Neil Young to Yes to some obscure bluegrass before
he started improvising country & western versions of some Husker songs.
Maybe it
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was the beer, but Bobs hands were virtually a blur as he blistered through
the songs hitting each note concise, clear and letter perfect.
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Bob Mould stands on stage at 7th St. Entry, preparing his Ibanez Flying-V.
Turning from his Yamaha amp, he slowly lowers the neck end of his guitar
towards the microphone, as cautiously as one would adjust a log in a fireplace
bare handed, until the silver tuning knobs touch the metal. Feeling no shock,
he adjusts the controls and repeats. He lifts up one finger, signaling to
the DJ at the back for one more song. Greg Norton and Grant Hart slip into
position as Mould glances, routinely into the crowd. Norton drops his
cigarette, steps on it.
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Then with a one, two, one-two-three-four the calm gives way to the storm as
the band crashes into a wall of sound. Bob staggered as a mortar exploded in
his monitor, Grant screamed unintelligably and Greg ducked under a line of
machine gun fire that splintered the back wall of Sams.* Yes, Husker Du were
under attack and holding their own brilliantly. And just what was their
nemesis? Why, Gladys, it's nothing more than a profound sense of Dayton Ohio
apathy that lurked in the shadows at Sams and kept company the twenty-or-so
people that had dragged
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| themselves out to see this band. Despite this, Husker Du played not one, but TWO all-balls-out sets of mind numbing ultracore. Bob was contorted into a gnarly knot of pure psycho energy, his face inches for the guitar, which was near vertical. Silouetted in the spot light he was a blur, shaking uncontrolaby spit and sweat misting and flying from his head like in those slow motion boxing footage on Wide World.** Greg was running around like a maniac tripping iver mick cords and puunding his fist into his bass, occasionally launching himself into the air or off the stage. Grant, their amazing drummer, seemed to manage most of the singing and screaming. It was incredible just to watch him go... |