Last year, late in the evening of September 21, still “soaking wet” from a typically committed solo show at a local “honky tonk” bar, Bob Mould could be seen slaloming around groups of Saturday night revellers crowding the streets of Urbana, Illinois, with his guitar slung over one shoulder.
He was heading for the city’s chic Gallery Art Bar, and upon reaching his destination, he rapped loudly on the venue’s back doors, and told the bemused security staff: “I’m doing a song with the headline act.”
