The Death of Grant Hart, Five Years Later
September 14, 2022
TODAY MARKS the fifth anniversary of the death of Grant Hart, drummer and co-vocalist of the Minneapolis trio Hüsker Dü. He passed away on September 14th, 2017, from liver cancer. He was 56.
I’ve been known, in my obsessive, not-at-all objective fan-boy opinion, to describe Grant as the greatest songwriter of the 1980s. While such statements are presumed to contain a measure of hyperbole, how much so is the question. The pantheon of 1980s songwriters is a formidable one. There’s Pat Fish and Billy Bragg. There’s the long-forgotten Roddy Frame. And Strummer and Jones, of course (most of whose brilliance had petered away by 1982 or so). Thinking as unbiasedly as I’m able to, I suppose I’d put Grant in third place, just behind Pat Fish (a.k.a the Jazz Butcher, another of my heroes who died recently) and Bragg.
Grant’s old band-mate, Bob Mould, is somewhere on that list as well. Although Mould ended up more famous, and continues making music to this day, it’s hard to argue that Grant wasn’t the more talented songwriter, if not the more prolific one. Perhaps ironically, among Grant’s finest moments are his backing vocals at the end of one of Mould’s best songs, “Divide and Conquer,” from the Flip Your Wig album in 1985. He almost steals it away.
Grant Hart’s greatest hits…
“Terms of Psychic Warfare”
“Pink Turns to Blue”
“It’s Not Funny Anymore”
“Books About UFOs”
“Keep Hanging On”
“Diane”
“The Girl Who Lives on Heaven Hill”
“Standing by the Sea”
“Turn on the News”
“She’s a Woman (And Now He is a Man)”
Subject to change, depending on my mood. If you’re unfamiliar and curious, you can do the YouTube thing and have a listen.
That final one on the list, I’ve always felt, rests as Grant’s most under-appreciated song. It’s also the last song I ever saw Hüsker Dü perform live, at a club called Toad’s, in New Haven, Connecticut, in 1987. He later sang a delicate acoustic version (a recording of which is one of my most treasured possessions), the last time I saw him play, in Boston around twelve years ago.
I was fortunate to meet Grant on several occasions, the first time in 1983, and I corresponded with him occasionally over the last couple of years of his life. Always gregarious, kind and accommodating, he even lent quotes to a few of my posts. I was a co-executive producer of “Every Everything,” the Gorman Bechard documentary about Grant’s life and work.
I could go on. I’ll finish with a small memory from a night in 1984. I was with some friends at a nightclub called The Living Room, in Providence, Rhode Island, standing in the parking lot just outside. Grant was there, feeding pieces of cheese to a stray dog. He’d hold out the pieces, one by one, raising his arm a little bit each time. And the dog would keep jumping, higher and higher, as everyone watched and laughed.
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Hüsker Dü photo by Daniel Corrigan.
Grant Hart thumbnail photo by Naomi Petersen.