DINOSAUR JR, 1985.



I’ve been listening a lot recently to Dinosaur Jr’s debut album, the recently reissued self-titled one with the black and white drawing of the dude standing in a field on the cover. I think it’s gotta be my favourite Dinosaur album. Sure, it’s a bit naïve and rough around the edges, but I like it that way – you can see the joins. Before Mascis became unquestioned dictator and started to hide the grace of his band and his songs behind walls of multi-track recording and Electro-Harmonix artillery (Whoa!), you can hear what an awesome rhythm section Lou and Murph were – listen to them launch into action halfway through ‘Bulbs of Passion’! You can hear how hesitant and pure J’s voice is, and what a brave boy he must have been to yowl his ugly truths so clearly. Sure, a few of the teenage self-pity lyrics might cause a twinge of embarrassment in the more dapper denizens of adulthood, but don’t worry J, we folks who still bite our fingernails and can’t comb our hair properly hear ya through the years. And obviously I don’t need to tell you that even when his confidence stumbles, his guitar is fuckin’ on point throughout. What a hero!

Oh yeah, and check out ‘Mountain Man’ to hear these gawky kids wipe the goddamn floor with today’s legions of stoner rawk posers – muscle ain’t everything.

It’s like anguished, anti-social punk rock that’s discovered the blood of Neil Young in its veins and ran with it. It’s like the pissed off, drunken teenagers who keep you up at night practising in your neighbour’s garage.... If you listened a bit closer and realised they were REALLY FUCKING GOOD.

Next month I’ll get to see Dinosaur Jr 2006 at All Tomorrow’s Parties. What will they be like now that J looks like Everett True in a fright wig and Lou is the kingpin of confessional lo-fi indie? They’ll be great, obviously! I mean, I sort of doubt we’ll hear spirited renditions of ‘Repulsion’ and ‘Forget the Swan’, but, y’know - dude.