Some Songs Considered

“Apologize” – Lou Barlow + Missingmen 
(Words/music: Lou Barlow, available on Sentridoh III, Merge Records (Digital) 2010) 

“Time’s been known to flicker / drag uneven, fly” is one of my favorite opening lines from recent memory particularly for the image it creates.  The idea of time passing in uneven bursts the way candlelight flares and recedes feels both beautiful and accurate.  This arrangement of the song (originally on Barlow’s 2009 record Goodnight Unknown) parallels this fluidity in the musical arrangement.  The Missingmen, on loan from Mike Watt, encase Barlow’s voice with watery distortion and subtly swirling guitar effects.  Even the song’s arrangement itself – quieter and looser verses followed by louder, tighter sections – somewhat flickers itself.  

“Flicker” is an interesting way to describe the song’s narrator too.  He seems to alternate between moments of illumination and moments in darkness. It’s an interesting and very familiar conflict for many of us who moments of clarity interspersed by pockets of confusions and don’t know how we moved from one to the other.  Ultimately, it’s a fight where temporary victories are the best, and the narrator seems to understand this.  The only thing that’s certain is his command, whether to himself or just as general advice, not to apologize for it.  Even if we’d want our lives illuminated by floodlights at times, isn’t there a degree of beauty and romance to the flicker of candlelight?  If so, the ups and downs come with the territory.  

More on Lou Barlow: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm

“Start Choppin” – Dinosaur Jr
(Words/music: J Mascis, available on Where You Been, Blaco y Negro / Sire 1993)

J Mascis plays guitar so effortlessly that it looks like he’s barely interested in playing.  When I saw Dinosaur Jr perform last fall, he barely changed expression whether he played chords during a verse or tore through a fast-paced lead section.  Two massive Marshall stacks stood behind him like his army of sonic assault, waiting for their stoic leader to give his orders.  Mascis, now draped in long, silver hair, seems more likely to be a war room tactician than a field general.  Nonetheless, he possesses a quiet command on stage, directing his guitar to replicate the precise tone, timbre, and volume at the blink of an eye.  Sure, Lour Barlow and drummer Murph are valuable allies, but Mascis is the Supreme Allied Commander in Dinosaur Jr, calling the shots and leading the way through an assault on our ear drums.

I prefer to think of Mascis as a sonic commander rather than just a guitar hero because he does more than just shred.   He understands his strengths as a musician (and his band’s too) and writes songs that play directly to his strengths.  “Start Choppin” shows Mascis range as a guitar player by moving between the playful opening riff, the weighty post-chorus chug, and the unhinged solo in the song’s second half.  Sure, Mascis could play at full throttle for three minutes and might make it sound exciting, but he prefers restraint in his songs by offering some contrast.  He also spins a solid melody, and even if Mascis will never sing like seraphim, he keeps it in a range that makes him sound quirky and casual rather than deficient.  Lou Barlow might have a (slightly) better voice, but Mascis needs to be front and center with his compositions.  Everything he does, whether it’s the casual vocals, the graceful shifts in texture, or the acrobatic guitar parts, comes across as confidently effortless.  I’m certain that Mascis became a virtuoso only through many years of practice, but his greatest gift is his ability to make what others might twist into complex compositions into simple blasts of distorted pop.  If Mascis says to start choppin’, I’m asking where to begin.

More on Dinosaur Jr: Allmusic | Amazon MP3 | Emusic | Last.fm