by Christopher J. Lee (@haijoondontbesad)
I hate to use this word, but there is a lot of “joy” on There Near, Dinosaur Jr.’s new LP, which has taken five long years to come out. A word like “joy” invokes the feel good-yoga-speak of the wellness industry, soft studio lighting, and the mild-mannered tones of authorless ambient music. In other words, the antithesis of Dinosaur Jr. That said, the usual descriptions applied to their music like scuzzy, ear bleeding, and feedback drenched seem overused to the point of cliché. These aspects are all present on There Near, but they are not what make this album distinctive. Instead, there is an open exuberance found here that contrasts with their canonical recordings like You’re Living All Over Me and “Feel the Pain,” which seemed committed to plumbing the psychological depths of bedroom bound social isolates. With There Near, it’s as if Dinosaur Jr. has reached the Vānaprastha stage of their existence (look it up) by renouncing past ambitions and keeping to essentials, sticking to what they know and do best as an essential good.
J Mascis, Lou Barlow, and Murph have had a storied career transmuting the sounds of hardcore, psych rock, metal, and prog rock into music for the scruffy, thrift-store wearing masses. Like their peers the Jesus and Mary Chain, Dinosaur Jr. were crucial in laying the groundwork for the shoegaze scene by indulging a propensity for distortion and sheer volume. You can include the grunge scene as well: shoegaze’s distant, working-class cousin. Before Kurt Cobain cited the Beatles as an influence and included songs by Bowie and the Vaselines in Nirvana’s setlist, Mascis and Co were releasing their wigged out takes on Peter Frampton and the Cure. A concert staple, Dinosaur Jr. have probably at this point performed the Cure’s “Just Like Heaven” more than the Cure have. Returning the love, guest musicians at their shows over the past several years have included figures like Kevin Shields, Kim Gordon, Stephen Malkmus (Mascis is the OG slacker lead guitarist), and (surprisingly?) Dave Matthews.
There Near is Dinosaur Jr.’s sixth album since Barlow’s return after a period of contretemps between him and Mascis during the 1990s. Beyond from 2007 initiated this third act in the band’s history, wasting little time in re-establishing their signature brand. Heart-on-their-sleeve tracks like “Crumb” and road ballads like “This Is All I Came To Do” marked not so much a return to form but a refinement of their aesthetic. Intervening LPs continued in these directions and more with emo-driven compositions (“Plans” from Farm), southern rock numbers (“I Know It Oh So Well” from I Bet On Sky), Crazy Horse melancholia (“See It On Your Side” also from I Bet On Sky), and heavy, Black Sabbath-inspired riffs (“I Walk for Miles” from Give a Glimpse of What Yer Not) with Mascis’ vocals unexpectedly proximate to Ozzy Osbourne’s. Barlow’s contributions have also moved beyond the grim statements of past songs like the ghostly and minimalist “Poledo” from You’re Living All Over Me to embrace a fuller, even epic sound on tracks like “Left/Right” from Give a Glimpse of What Yer Not, reflecting his years with Sebadoh, the Folk Implosion, and as a solo artist.
There Near continues this momentum albeit with more concision. At 42 minutes, its eleven songs are lean and get to the point, starting with the brightly expressive opener “Several Got Away” followed shortly by the minor key “No Friends”. Despite chancing dourness, the song is kept elevated by Murph’s unfussy, propulsive drumming, which is too often underappreciated. The third track “Everything At Once” is the album’s lead single. Mascis has always been an old school romantic, whether through his foregrounding of 70s lead guitar histrionics or his confessional lyrics that frequently have him describing an emotional state of separation and/or breakup. “Everything At Once” checks these boxes, sticking with a formula that has worked time and time again.
Yet, the LP’s standout track is “Clam Along.” I’m still unsure of the title’s meaning (“Make it strong/Clam along”), I think it is about attachment (shellfish as metaphor?), but the song has it all: the nostalgic tenor, the despondent, Zuma-era Neil Young guitar lead, and the manic-depressive lyrics, all brought together like an unruly, cathartic therapy session circuited through a Big Muff and Marshall stack. It’s ultimately what you want from a Dinosaur Jr. song. Surrounding it are tracks that circle back to a brighter, crowd surfing tone. One of Barlow’s requisite contributions, “Blowin’ Up,” is a swaggering stoner jam that further elevates what comes before and after. There Near is not a culmination for the band—the closer “No One’s Ready” from Barlow imparts a feeling of unfinished business, not a final word—but it provides as good a late career summary as you could hope for.
Dinosaur Jr. launched There Near with several free shows scattered across New York City, a decidedly generous, back-to-their-roots gesture from a legacy act. Mascis at this point resembles a Gandalf-like wizard with his long white locks under an omnipresent trucker hat and a Fender Jazzmaster serving as his staff. Barlow (who recently turned 60) and Murph seem somehow ageless. Dinosaur Jr. have stayed true to their sound despite shifting tastes and times. Like their nineteenth-century, eastern Mass forebears, they’ve managed after four decades to create a kind of updated transcendental community with “Freak Scene” as their founding mission statement. There Near continues this utopian project.