The Living End is a live album and final release by American punk rock band Hüsker Dü, released on April 7, 1994, by Warner Bros. Records. It was recorded at various venues throughout October 1987, but was not released until 1994.
The album's tracks span the entirety of the band' recorded output, from the band's debut album to their final album. The album also features some unreleased tracks, and a cover of the pioneering punk rock band Ramones' "Sheena Is a Punk Rocker".
The album was deleted from the Warner Bros catalogue in 2003, and reissued through Rhino Entertainment's Encore imprint in June 2008. In an interview with Spin magazine in January 2008, Bob Mould stated that he had never heard this album.[3]
The liner notes were written by rock critic David Fricke and discuss the band's disintegration. The liner notes also mention several songs that were considered for inclusion on the album, but were left off due to space reasons.[citation needed]
Recording
Guitarist Bob Mould and drummer Grant Hart handled the overwhelming share of songwriting duties in the band, though Greg Norton has a solo credit for "Everytime". The track listing is reflective of the band's set lists. "New Day Rising" was a common choice to open shows. As explained in the liner notes, the band preferred to group like-minded songs into what they called "packs of three." Examples of these "packs" include "Standing in the Rain" followed by "Back from Somewhere" and "Ice Cold Ice", as well as "Terms of Psychic Warfare" followed by "Powerline" and "Books About UFOs."[citation needed]
Over half of the songs were recorded at Le Spectrum in Montreal. Songs from seven different performances were compiled by producer and long time Husker Du sound man, Lou Giordano.[4]
Franklin Soults of the Chicago Reader praised the album, writing that "as a recap of Hüsker Dü’s epic career, it’s more instructive and exciting than any boxed set could have been. Vividly reconstructed from several dates on the tour taped by their sound man, Lou Giordano, the record has many unexpected sequences in which the meaning of each tune is deepened by its proximity to other songs and by the intensity of the band’s seamless, full-throttle execution. It proves the thrill wasn’t all high-volume buzz and ringing overtones: this band could play."[1] Milo Miles of The New York Times conceded that "the band's enveloping noise always eluded recording," but he argued that their "headlong dynamics and sudden bursts of roaring compassion" were well-documented in The Living End.[2]
