Bob Mould has fast become my arthritic golden retriever, and this album is his attempt at climbing the sofa. Like long-gone days of tennis ball chasing, those glorious Minneapolis nights of shattering land speed records, pumping out sweat-soaked hardcore to the hardcore Hüsker faithful now only exist in shoddy home vids and nostalgic childhood memories. And while nobody expects rowdy guitar rock from this guy 15 years clear of Sugar, we should ask more of our punk heroes than vanilla AOR and ruminations on middle-aged relational turmoil. “MM17” and follow-up “Argos” rock like 1995, but these occasional signs of life prove only a pair of ominous beeps portending flatline. Life and Times’ opening title track better represents the space Mould fills at this stage of the game in that it’s only a few f-bomb edits away from scoring the new American Idol theme. Likewise, “I’m Sorry, Baby, But You Can’t Stand In My Light Anymore,” in addition to being an inappropriately named single, sips from the decaffeinated latte of Adult Contemporary. It’s hard to swallow, for sure - a gaping limp in song. We put our dog down a day after her thirteenth birthday. With this kind of suffering, there’s no end in sight. - Robert J. Hilson