It’s October in New York City. A favorite time of year as it
brings about one of the most dramatic seasonal shifts in the calendar. As
opposed to Spring, this autumnal turn is toward the frozen abyss which brings
dropping temperatures and ever earlier darkening evening skies. A process
which makes a world more in line with the visions of my happy place. The newly
added chill in the wind is a subtle nod to the breath stealing cold weather to
come. The clock is now counting down to the arrival of snow and it’s blanketing effect
on the surrounding urban blight that makes even the dog-shitted, trash strewn
and structurally failing streets of Brooklyn look as serene as a prairie
in Nebraska. The excitement for these utterly unique winter induced moments are
just currently thoughts lodged in the back of my mind, being awoken after a
summer’s worth of hibernation.
The first signs of turning leaves, candy corn on the store shelves (now pumpkin infused beer too) and the spike in hooded sweatshirts in your field of vision are all markers of what used to be the start of a new school year.
Even years after escaping the perpetual cycle, that instinctual thought of new beginnings in the Fall is still scarred into the minds and bodies of every
adult churned through the US public school system. Perhaps for that reason, Fall can be a very nostalgic period
of time. The end of yet another year is in sight, winter can be
daunting prospect with the memory of summer so fresh and the fading history of so many new experiences (jr. high, high school,
college, first jobs) hangs in the air. I’ve had a few people in my life say
that music just sounds better in the Fall or there are certain albums that take
on an additional dimension when the Earth’s axial tilt takes the Northern
hemisphere further away from the sun. The music industry might even take this
mysterious fact into account as so many albums and tours are seemingly tied to the Fall. While the thought of something mystical being at play is more intriguing,
the logical part of my brain tells me it’s just tied to that new college year schedule. The
fact being that an indie rock band wants to pass through Chapel Hill, Boston
and Berkeley (for example) with new material when classes are in session and
packed to the gills with impressionable students.
Regardless of the motivation, there has been many a show
this month. None more present in my mind then the most recent, guitarrorist J
Mascis of & The Fog, Dinosaur, Upside Down Cross and The Velvet Monkeys at
The Bowery Ballroom of Manhattan, the now overly gentrified LES and the Bowery J train subway station. Mascis just
recently put out his second solo lp “Tied To A Star” on Sub Pop records following in
the critically lauded footsteps of Dinosaur Jr’s 2012 "I Bet On Sky" and his last
solo release 2011’s “Several Shades of Why”. Much like that 2011 release, “Tied To A Star” offers a nice
compliment to Mascis’ work in Dinosaur. A mostly acoustic excursion that,
while seemingly obvious now, was not always a consistent part of his recording
history. It is true that the year 1996 saw the release of his first acoustic solo
lp, “Martin and Me”. However, that
album was more of a live document of his initial solo acoustic tour which was
comprised of nothing more than Dinosaur classics given the stripped down
treatment along with a few covers. “Several Shades of Why” and “Tied To A Star”
offer a whole other world of output for Mascis with fully realized songs played
with limited accompaniment beyond his own multi-instrumental talents. When
assistance is given it usually is by a noteworthy contemporary such as Kurt
Vile, Chan Marshall or Ben Bridwell. While complimentary, their offerings are
nothing more than an added bonus placed on top of an already stellar track. Regardless of it being superfluous, their mere presence adds the potential to
expand his usual listening base and/or add extra glowing lines to any record
review.
At this point in his career, J Mascis is not exactly an artist that needs a review. He is known to be a polarizing figure and is usually either loved or reviled with not many falling in the middle. The signature squealing
guitar solos, the dry vocal delivery and the overall in the red volume combined
with his sleepy, laconic manner and affinity for purple boils down to either
genius or horror in people’s minds. Indifference is a rare occurrence for
anyone who has been to one of his shows or heard a couple albums on a long car
ride. You either bleed purple or you do not (No offense to Prince, Minnesota or almost all 13 year old girls). In an act of full disclosure, I am
going on record as stating Dinosaur is the absolute top of the musical pile for
me. Decades of non-stop music being funneled into my ears have resulted in
being uniquely moved and continuously blown away by the output, history and career of
this band. The unbelievable reconciliation and reformation of the original trio
of J, Lou and Murph was a genie worthy wish for me that actually came true. The
first time seeing them on stage was a genuine moment of feeling lucky to be
alive at this particular moment in all of history and time. A feeling I have
been fortunate enough to experience again many, many times over in the years
that have since followed.
A J Mascis solo show is different than the full-fledged
Dinosaur experience. In obvious terms, his solo show revolves exclusively
around one person, J Mascis. On stage, he is equipped with nothing more than
his voice and guitar… or should I say guitars (plural), an array of pedals and
something that allows him to record and loop his guitar lines to build a solid
platform for his eventual ripping solo. J Mascis as a solo act became a part of
my life during the tours leading up to that “Martin and Me” lp release.
Downstairs at the Middle East club in Cambridge, Massachusetts in 1995 or 1996
I was able to witness solo sets by both Mascis and Mike Johnson (the replacement for Lou
Barlow on bass in Dinosaur). A set that at moments turned into near campfire
sing-alongs with plastic beer cup holding audience members emotionally belting
out Boston accented lyrics louder and with more intensity than J himself. While
nearly two decades have passed since his initial solo shows, not much has
changed from that basic equation.
However, it is obvious that Mascis has definitely become
more confident alone on the stage. His sets including plenty of material where
his vocals live in that unstable upper falsetto register (examples being the
new track Stumble or Post-Barlow Dino classic Not The Same) without a hint of
discomfort as his voice struggles to stay up in that high, thin air. Attempts
to get his guitar looping on track, tuning breaks and the every once in a while
miscue are of no concern to Mascis. Concentrating on the tasks at hand between sips from a large carton of coconut water, he seems as content in front of an audience as if he was setting
up and practicing in his basement at home. The crowd creates the space for this ease as the shouts of “Yes, J!”,
“Nice T-Shirt, J!” and “Everybody Loves You, J!” were yelled in between songs at
Pantene Plus levels of volume. At this point in his career, J Mascis doesn’t
have to do much to get his devotees into a tizzy. Throughout the night, just
the resulting small bleed of fuzzy noise that results from his hitting a pedal
for his impending electric solo over layered acoustic loops was enough to create a
wild, pants shitting roar of anticipation. A trained, pavlovian response from
those in attendance who have previously had their brains melted directly after hearing
guitars make those sounds near J Mascis. It would appear that J knows he can do
no wrong in a room full of his disciples and has found acceptance and comfort
with that fact. Without question, the rough edges have been worn down and
softened since those early days of acoustic tours in the nineties. You can tell
that he just feels so free on that stage with the autonomy to play whatever he
feels is right (even if that is basically the same set every night).
J Mascis seems to be hitting a personal stride of late with
success as a solo artist and with his legendary band, Dinosaur Jr. He is even
finding time to play his original instrument, the drums, in the bands Witch and
Sweet Apple while also laying down some heavy, extensive guitar jams in the
mysterious Heavy Blanket. Amidst all this activity, “Tied To A Star” has the potential
to get lost in his recent prolific string of quality releases but that would be
a huge disservice to all involved. Judging from the reaction at his Bowery Ballroom show, this
isn’t going to be an issue. Loud cheers went up for the new songs (“Every
Morning” and “Heal The Star” especially) just as quickly as for classic Dinosuar
material. The crowd reacting equally to all of the Mascis cannon which over the course of sixteen songs ran the
gamut from acoustic ballads to electric tube blowing shredding.
Let next spring bring a new Dinosaur album that screams to
be played with the windows rolled down in a rental car for that trip out of the
city. “Tied to A Star” is an album for right now. It is perfect headphone
listening for your daily travels while the wind howls around you and the dead,
dried leaves crunch underfoot. Daylight Savings Time ends this upcoming weekend
and that brings the darkness even earlier than it’s already crept into the
evening. So, let’s not concentrate on what’s to come; Embrace the now- bring on
the dark ales and stouts, take those sweaters out of the closet, let’ begin the
end of the year holiday gauntlet and, for damn sure, be sure to take advantage
of the increased music coming to your town.