HUSKER DU – ” 1885: The Miracle Year “

Posted: December 21, 2025 in MUSIC


Hüsker Dü, 1885: The Miracle Year (Numero Group) 

Minneapolis punk trio Husker Du had a incredible year in 1985, releasing two of their best albums, which then led to a major-label deal. “1985: The Miracle Year” centers on a hometown gig from January featuring soon-to-be classics “I Apologize” and “Makes No Sense at All” and covers of “Eight Miles High” and “Ticket to Ride.” Select songs from other 1985 shows round out these exemplary performances by a band that exited too soon.

Perhaps because they were surrounded by bands that were more formally daring (Sonic Youth, Mission of Burma, Big Black), Hüsker Dü has sometimes taken back seat in the 1980s u-ground rock mythology. Of course, this really depends on an individual’s perspective, as the trio’s discography remains a foundational text in how to lay down the hardcore-era punk scorch with non-trite melodicism while being instrumentally limber (in the manner of the great rock trios).

Directly related to Hüsker’s formal achievement is the high number of subsequent bands that directly swiped their sound. By comparison, far fewer aped Sonic Youth or Minutemen or Big Black. And so, it was also easy to get fatigued by the sheer impact Hüsker Dü had on the scene. Yes, it was all a long time ago, but hierarchies can become codified over time. Packed from start to finish with blazing performances, “1885: The Miracle Year” is a glorious perspective corrector, particularly for anybody who tuned out after “Zen Arcade”.

The Minnesota speed demons were in roaring form and career flux — closing out their indie-punk purism at SST Records, about to sign with Warner Bros. — on these stage dates: a January 1985 rave-up at First Avenue in Minneapolis, plus hot shots from the Hüskers’ touring that fall. Velocity can trump coherence — hardly a problem amid the thrill of it all. But five songs from Salt Lake City are a scalding preview of the pop contours on 1986’s “Candy Apple Grey”, while a hometown-encore streak of Byrds and Beatles covers shows off the Sixties-garage classicism always at the heart of the din.

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.