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While local Indigoers disappear fear went through their opening set for Bob Mould’s March 6 show at Gaston Hall, the headliner held court outside the ornate meetinghouse. What started as an outdoor smoking break quickly became an unintentionally hilariousQ&A session between the father of grunge guitar and 40 or so male, mostly undergrad worshipers. By the halfway point of the 15-minute gathering, interrogators had the White House press corps routine pretty much down: Hands were raised, follow-ups were requested, already proffered questions were re-proffered. Twice within mere moments, a not-so-hep cat sporting an ill-matching shirt/suspenders combo and a drunken stagger asked the sitting star if his latest solo tour signaled the demise of Sugar. After each reply, the Larry King wanna-be followed up with, “And how does that make you feel?” “Yeah, Bob, I have a guitar geek question,” pleaded one of the longer-haired inquirers who, after un-raising his hand, launched into a kinetic air guitar solo while asking Mould to divulge what kind of distortion pedal he now favored. Considering the inanity he was being bombarded with, Mould was a surprisingly accommodating questionee, but he did snap once. After being told that Hüsker Dü’s lack of chart success made sense, since “records by influential artists never sell,” Mould responded, “Yeah, Elvis didn’t sell shit.” He then cited a chill and guitar-tuning chores in asking permission to end the symposium, at which point the ad hoc media horde formed a receiving line to pay respects. The line broke up as a fawner doled out some heartfelt, if not sage, life advice: “Just keep doing what you want, man,” he implored. “I mean, fuck me, fuck everybody else. Just keep doing what you want.” Perhaps taking those words to heart, Mould quickly disappeared into Gaston Hall.