Listening to Husker Du in chronological order is in a sense, like listening to The Beatles from start to finish; you hear the growing pains from simplistic, youthful noisy beginnings to later, more controlled earnest approaches and layers and layers of depth piling on, as if burying some ancient artifact. From his primal blistering solos and throat shredding beginnings in Husker Du, to his wildly eclectic and often uneven solo career, one thing as always been constant: Bob Mould has always been brutally honest and never afraid to examine the more troubled aspects of life, even if it hasn't been a happy ride. With his latest offering came a couple of surprises: it was delivered less than a year than the amazing "District Line" and it not only replicates the stronger aspects of said album, but if anything enhances them. The title track alone is undoubtedly one of Bob's most naked and amazing moments; from the driving chords to the desperation in his voice, it's clear that looking back through more wiser eyes is any less harder but don't expect an easy listening soft rock memoir, the grace and beauty throughout this record is coupled by the sheer velocity and strength and even the quieter moments glisten and shine with the fresh pain of old memories long past. As Bob Mould learns to slip more into older age, it seems his grasp on how to make a great album is still a firm one.