In the 20-odd years since Hüsker Dü first emerged in the Midwest’s punk revolution, Independent music, in commercial terms, has peaked and passed. The corporate monster of the music industry is now just another hallmark of our culture. Bob Mould quietly bears the banner of music for the individual.

My first experience seeing Bob was 13 years ago, in Northampton, Mass. He came to the stage with a cigarette in hand, wearing long shorts and looking downright dumpy. I began referring to him as “Uncle Bob,” as he looked like the uncle who would come to one’s house and stay for a few weeks on the couch. “Hey kid. Get me a beer and I’ll play you my new song.”

Much has changed. “Uncle Bob” is now a fitness fanatic, and his surliness has been … if not replaced by a better humor, then at least toned down. His excellent blog (modulate.blogspot.com) offers insight into his outlook. His politics are not shouted, but are nonetheless vehement. He has never been one to get on his soapbox, but his observations, both as a thinking artist and as an increasingly politically active member of the gay community, are a worthwhile read.

Since Hüsker Dü’s demise, Bob has not rested on his laurels. His first two solo albums were yin and yang. The vibrant collection Workbook focused on acoustic guitar and cello, but with occasional electric bite. Black Sheets of Rain, despite hints of balladry, reinvented Bob’s super-huge guitar sound, which proceeded to get even bigger with his band Sugar, whose perfect power-pop graced the mid-’90s.

The first two post-Sugar solo albums were self-reliant, restrained yet varied and flawlessly produced. A self-titled album and its follow-up, The Last Dog and Pony Show, marked the end of his “loud performance” era. He seemed poised to maintain a career as a singer-songwriter; his performances alone with an acoustic or electric guitar, occasionally with a bass player at his side, dated back to the Workbook days, and he may be the uncredited inventor of the “unplugged” genre.

He has continued on this path, but with one more twist. His computer- and synthesized-music experiments after Sugar led to his embrace of electronica. The album Modulate saw a tremendous (and innovative) influence from computer-based recording. He took that one step further with Loud Bomb: Long Playing Grooves, a limited release made entirely on his Laptop, a perfect post-modern dancehall soundtrack. His latest career, in fact, is as a DJ, co-hosting the bi-weekly “Blowoff” at the 9:30 Club in his current home of Washington, D.C.

But he still tours now and again as a guitarist. He is preparing for the July release of his long-awaited Body of Song — an album he promised, at a show in Chicago nearly two years ago, would be heralded as a “return to form,” following his (unfairly) critically dismissed ventures into the computer domain.

His show last week at Shank Hall in Milwaukee reflected this return to form by surprisingly ignoring his post-2000 output, with the exception of a block of Body of Song material forming most of the set’s second half.

He blistered through a set of his best songs, starting with Workbook’s “Wishing Well” and touching on each of his pre-computerized incarnations. His virtuosic ability with an acoustic 12-string left the small room awestruck as he somehow evoked every recorded note using just guitar and voice. His electric guitar was no less mesmerizing, with that signature thunderous sound turning the tiny club into the world’s most intimate stadium. By the end of his performance only a hint of gravel in his voice hinted at any fatigue as his one-week tour of the Midwest came to a close.

Change is good, and is needed now — both artistically and socially. Bob Mould is at the forefront. His constant evolution has not lost sight of his foundation, as a gifted writer, uniquely passionate vocalist and outstanding musician and performer.

Few individuals can put Bob’s level of emotion into a one-man show. If you aspiring indie-rock songwriters want to see how it’s done, keep your eyes peeled for the next time Bob Mould hits the road.