J Mascis / Dinosaur Jr. Stuff

Tally for the Year

I realized yesterday that I've bought quite a bit of J Mascis / Dinosaur Jr.-related stuff over the course of the last twelve months.

I Bet on Sky (Deluxe Bundle)
Bug Live (Purple Vinyl)
Chocomel Daze
Heavy Blanket (Purple Vinyl)
Circle Single (Edie Brickell cover on green, marbled vinyl)
The Electronic Anthology Project:  Dinosaur Jr.
Squier J Mascis Signature Jazzmaster guitar
Tickets to Dinosaur Jr. performing  You're Living All Over Me at Terminal 5 in New York City (Ended up selling those.)

And, of course

J Mascis Throbblehead

One could probably expand this to include tickets to see Sebadoh (Dinosaur Jr. bassist Lou Barlow's band), Sebadoh's Secret EP, and Sentridoh's Weed Forestin' reissue.

That's some serious fanboy action, right there.

Titus Andronicus Returned to the Elysian Fields

Titus Andronicus / Ceremony at Maxwell's, Hoboken, NJ, December 1st, 2012

I've always liked Lou Barlow's honesty.  Over the years, he's been very candid about his feelings following his ouster from Dinosaur Jr. by J Mascis.  He hasn't been afraid to opine on the post-Barlow 1990's output of Dinosaur Jr., and he's been honest about the difficulty and awkwardness that's accompanied the band's very successful reunion.

During the Sentridoh portion of Sebadoh's show a few months ago, Barlow commented on his early years growing up in Massachusetts.  A cheer rose up from the crowd, and Barlow took the opportunity to let the crowd know of his disdain for regional pride.  He said he thought it was ridiculous.  To an extent, I agreed.  I've always been suspicious of anything that feeds human beings' natural tendency toward clannishness and tribalism.  And what's the point, really, of a reflexive fist pump at the mention of Boston, Brooklyn, or New Jersey?  In another sense, though, I think regional pride can unify people from different places -- as in, "This is how we do it where I'm from in New Jersey / the East Coast / the United States of America."

I had a choice last night.  I could see a galaxy of my heroes -- J Mascis, Frank Black, Johnny Marr, Kim Gordon, and yes, Lou Barlow -- perform, in its entirety, one of the albums that has been most important to me over the last two decades; or I could see a bunch of guys from New Jersey who have been at it for around five or six years.  I mean no disrespect to Lou Barlow and Dinosaur Jr., both of whom I basically worship; but it was really no contest.  Going into Manhattan versus going to Hoboken, the intimate Maxwell's versus the cavernous Terminal 5 -- those were factors.  I have to confess, though, that I think there was a bit of regional pride at work as well.  CoolMom even sucked it up and joined me for what was going to be a very late show.

We walked into Maxwell's just as openers, Ceremony, were getting ready for their set.  Maxwell's holds an important place not only in New Jersey music history, but also in American history.  Its front door sits adjacent to where third base used to be on Elysian Fields, the site of the first-ever organized baseball game.  I hadn't been in the place since CoolMom and I lived in Hoboken almost twenty years ago, and I'd forgotten just how small the performance space really is.  The tight space and its low ceiling gave the feeling that we were sharing the room with Ceremony rather than simply watching the show.  The band did a great, crushingly loud, virtually non-stop set that opened with current single "Hysteria" and closed with "Sick" from 2010's Rohnert Park.  Surprisingly, the Maxwell's crowd remained pretty calm throughout, even when lead singer Ross Farrar climbed down from the stage into the crowd.

A nice thing about Maxwell's:  at the bar between sets, I was able to compliment Ceremony drummer Jake Cassarotti on an excellent performance and exchange a quick pre-performance hello with Patrick Stickles of Titus Andronicus.

Titus Andronicus took the stage at about 11:30 and opened, as they did at The Stone Pony earlier in the year, with a cover of "The Boys Are Back in Town."  The effects of playing and touring together as a band for nine months were evident as the quintet sounded even better than they did back at that show in March.  They played selections from each of the three Titus Andronicus LP's, the now energetic crowd wildly singing along with lines like, "You will always be a loser!" "Your life is over!" "Built to last!" and "The enemy is everywhere!"  Drummer Eric Harm's father, Steven, joined the band to play harmonica on Local Business cut "Tried to Quit Smoking," and Patrick Stickles pointed out that Titus Andronicus are a "family affair."  As the band closed out the set with "Four Score and Seven" from The Monitor, the tight quarters and the hometown crowd made last night feel like Titus Andronicus had a family of a few hundred.

Titus Andronicus have said of this tour, "PUNK IS BACK."  Their music, however, is as influenced by traditional rock and roll, especially on Local Business, as by punk.  Stickles dedicated the Rolling Stones-ish "(I Am The) Electric Man" to his father, noting that his dad enjoys old-time rock and roll.  The band also did a cover of The Contours' "Do You Love Me?"  And I love that the rock guitar solo is a standard part of the Titus Andronicus arsenal.

The Dinosaur Jr. You're Living All Over Me anniversary celebration at Terminal 5 sounds like it was a fantastic night as well.  I'm sticking by my choice, though.  As much as I love J, Lou, Murph, Frank, Johnny, and Kim, I had to show up for my home state and support a couple of great local businesses.

Dinosaur Jr., I Bet on Sky, 2012

Gotta Get Off My A$# and Run Album Review

Sometimes, as you get older, you get restless.  You want to try new things.  If what you're doing now isn't something you love or are passionate about, the rut and the sameness of it all can become too much.  That's when people start exploring career changes and other experiences that can provide some fulfillment.

But there are a lucky few that find their niche.  They become good at what they do.  So good, in fact, that they have perfected the way they do it.  I think of Mariano Rivera throwing the same pitch, time after time, and still baffling opposing hitters.  Dinosaur Jr. have become like that.  They have their thing.  They've perfected it.  They're into a phase now where they do it over and over again.  And it's good.

I Bet on Sky is Dinosaur Jr.'s tenth studio album, the third following a decade-long break and featuring the reunited original line-up of J Mascis, Lou Barlow, and Murph.  While it may have slightly more general appeal than its predecessors, Beyond and Farm, it is still a Dinosaur Jr. record.  That means Mascis's almost mumbled, drawling vocals and ferocious guitar soloing.  That means that you can always predict the places where the music will swell to a wave of noise as a song builds to the chorus.

The themes haven't changed much either.  Loneliness is probably the overriding theme of almost all Dinosaur Jr. songs, and the collection on I Bet on Sky is no exception.  Whether or not the word "alone" comes up explicitly in any given song, as it does on single "Watch the Corners," that feeling of being an outsider looking in is usually there.  Even more upbeat-sounding tracks like "Almost Fare" and "I Know It Oh So Well" include lyrics like "Now, there she is. / What should I do? / What should I give?" or "I got home again. I watched you float away..."  You can almost imagine a young J Mascis at home, alone in his room, with his collection of 1970's classic rock, 1980's hardcore, post-punk, and country records spread out on the floor with something spinning on the turntable, volume set to 11.

I Bet on Sky, like Beyond and Farm, also includes two contributions from Lou Barlow, "Rude" and "Recognition."  These are nice to hear, especially since I've recently reacquainted myself with Barlow's songwriting through his non-Dinosaur Jr. Sentridoh and Sebadoh projects.  Both are bouncier indie pop.  They feature Barlow's much more conventionally "good" voice along with the embellishments of the big Dinosaur Jr. sound and some Mascis soloing.

I guess not everything has stayed exactly the same.  Dinosaur Jr. are sounding ever so slightly more commercial than they have in a while, kind of like they did on (the Barlow-less) classics Green Mind and Where You Been?  One or two of the songs may actually be kind of funky sounding.  Really, what we've got here, though, is a band doing what it's always done and doing it well.  It really takes a special talent to throw just one pitch and remain so dangerous.  Dinosaur Jr. definitely have it.

There Are No Sebadoh Songs

Sebadoh at The Bowery Ballroom, New York, NY, August 22nd, 2012

"There are Pavement songs.  There are Guided By Voices songs.  But there are no Sebadoh songs."  That was Lou Barlow, responding to an audience member's shouted comment that a new song didn't "sound like a Sebadoh song."

It was funny.  I'd said just about the same thing to the guy standing next to me in the crowd at Bowery Ballroom before the show even started.  My new friend was about the same age as I am, but neither of us had ever seen Sebadoh live before.  I told him that I'd seen Lou Barlow with Dinosaur Jr. the last time the reunited version of that band came through the area.  He told me that he'd been listening to Sebadoh since his early twenties.  Then I told him how I thought it was interesting that Dinosaur Jr. do pretty much one thing and have honed that thing to perfection over the last twenty-five or so years.  Sebadoh, on the other hand, have relied on multiple songwriters and have produced a catalog that covers almost every style of guitar-based indie rock, from acoustic singer-songwriter to fuzzed out noise.  I'm not sure if Lou Barlow feels this way, but in retrospect, getting kicked out of Dinosaur Jr. in 1989 may not have been a bad thing for him.  It definitely gave us a slew of great and varied songs.

I came to be at last night's show because CoolMom worried over the weekend about what I'd do with myself after she took the girls up to visit with their aunt at the end of this week.  She looked through the week's offerings and found out that Sebadoh were playing the Bowery Ballroom last night and encouraged me to go.  It was a great idea.

The show was all-ages.  There were folks my age and older.  There were also kids, basically.  Some appeared to be the children of some of those older fans from the 1990's; while others were (almost) on their own, like a young woman in the front row who, embarrassed, tried to shove her mother away as the older woman tried to solidify plans for how they'd reunite when the show was done.  There was also Underage Drunk Idiot, but that's the last mention I'll make of him.

Sebadoh, who last night consisted of Lou Barlow and Jason Loewenstein tag-teaming on guitar and bass along with Bob D'Amico on drums, split up into their constituent parts and served as their own opening acts.

First up were Circle of Buzzards -- Loewenstein and D'Amico -- they played a short set of heavy, face-melting rock.  Loewenstein, disguised in hoodie and sunglasses, graciously thanked us several times for "standing in the circle."

Next, Lou Barlow came out and did a set of acoustic songs, many from his pre-Sebadoh Sentridoh home recording project.  The songs from Weed Forestin' like "Temporary Dream," "Jealous of Jesus," and "I Can't See," written when Barlow was still in his teens, got wonderful reactions from the crowd around me.  My new friend commented on how he'd gotten over losing his first love with these songs, and a twenty-something girl standing near us threw her head back and clutched her temples in delight with the opening chords of almost every song.  Barlow also did a new song about feeling like a failure every time he saw the other parents picking up their children at his daughter's tony, public LA elementary school.  "Trust me.  Some of you in the audience will be able to identify with this."

Finally, at around 10:30, Sebadoh came out for their full band set.  Barlow and Loewenstein traded off on guitar and bass doing songs like "Careful," "Skull," "Ocean," "License to Confuse," and "Beauty of the Ride,"  They also did several new songs, at least one of which is available on their new, five-song, Secret EP.

Unlike certain other bands that are ruled by a single personality, Sebadoh look a lot more like a democracy.  I'd come to see Barlow really, but every time Loewenstein took over lead guitar and vocal duties the band became his.  And I've always loved watching Barlow play bass.  He's the opposite of the typical, straight-standing, stoic bass player.  He's all loose-limbs and shambling movements.  At one point, though, Barlow swung the bass -- a twenty-plus year old Squier that Loewenstein had purchased to be able to play in the band back in the day -- and broke one of the tuning machines.  Loewenstein, who didn't love the "be our own openers" idea as much as Barlow, mentioned that this would have been a nice time to have had an opening act with a bass.

They soldiered through the equipment malfunction, though, and Barlow announced, "This is our encore," just before the last song.  It was the last night of the tour, just about midnight, and they were all tired.  I could identify.  Barlow mentioned that Sebadoh have a new record coming out and invited us all to come see them again.  I, for one, can't wait.

As the lights came up and I headed out, I grabbed one of the tour-only Secret EP CD's.  Songwriting duties on the EP are, unsurprisingly, split between Barlow and Loewenstein.  It's a little taste that makes me look forward to the new Sebadoh record, which I'm sure will be full of songs that aren't Sebadoh songs.