J. Mascis + The Fog – More Light

 

J. Mascis + The Fog – More Light

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

 

You’ve led a successful indie/alternative band for 14 years. You’ve toured with your heroes, and inspired legions of young musicians with your guitar heroics and slacker aesthetics. And then you decide a change is needed.

So was the story of J. Mascis in 1997. His band Dinosaur Jr. had just released Hand It Over, an album which Mascis still considers to be one of his best. But problems with their label, Blanco y Negro/Sire – they were dropped – meant that the album was under promoted.

As a result, very few copies were sold, and fans seeing them on the tour – now featuring bassist Mike Johnson and drummer George Berz – were surprised to find out that a new record was even out. With Mascis being the only original member left, and an overall loss of interest in alternative rock, the writing was on the wall.

So, after a show at The Middle East in Cambridge, MA in November 1997, J. Mascis quietly put the Dinosaur Jr. name to rest. To paraphrase the track “Gettin’ Rough” from Hand It Over, the charm was gone, and it was time to move on.

Mascis coped with the change the only way he knew how – he retreated to his home studio, Bob’s Place. Named after his beloved bulldog – the same one which graced the cover of Dinosaur’s Whatever’s Cool With Me album – it was a sanctuary of musical equipment and inspiration.

Mascis built the studio in the mid-90s after, in his words, “staring out the window [of a recording studio] and realizing how much money [he] was wasting.” It was better to spend the recording budget on something to own and be able to spend as much time as the songs need.

Some of the new songs sounded like they could’ve been on late-period Dinosaur Jr. albums, while others were written on keyboards instead of the guitar – Mascis’ trademark instrument. And like those late-period Dinosaur albums, Mascis once again handled most of the instruments – Johnson and Berz only played on a few Dinosaur Jr. studio tracks.

Mascis did however receive some help along the way. Longtime engineer John Agnello was again handling the technical aspects. A talented producer in his own right, Agnello can be credited with helping Mascis and Dinosaur discover a cleaner sound during their 1990s major label period.

Engineer Andy Wilkinson was also on board the project. As engineer for shoegazing bands My Bloody Valentine and The Boo Radleys, Wilkinson built up a reputation as a mixer who could sort through layer and layer of instrumentation to see the bigger picture of what the song needed to sound best.

Speaking of My Bloody Valentine, Kevin Shields played his signature glide guitar style on three tracks. The tortured, reclusive guitarist had been through the ringer, trying – and failing – to create an album to follow up 1991 masterwork Loveless. He had only recently re-emerged as a member of Primal Scream when the Mascis project gained his involvement.

Shields also worked on Hand It Over, but his thumbprints are all over the three tracks he contributed to here. His woozy guitar tones gave the songs a distinct dreaminess, in contrast with Mascis’ warm, major key leads played at ear-splitting volume.

Guided By Voices frontman Robert Pollard was also involved, singing co-lead vocals on three songs with Mascis. Pollard’s melodic vocals worked wonders with Mascis’ playing and gave the tracks a poppier appeal.

The resulting album was billed to J. Mascis + The Fog. Titled More Light and released in October 2000, it was a long time in the works and had a lot to live up to, given the status of the players involved.

The album opens with the exuberant, optimistic “Same Day.” One of the more distinctly Dinosaur Jr. sounding tracks, It was no doubt picked to ease fans into the new style. Pollard joins in the chorus, after Mascis plays one of his most complex leads in the bridge.

The overall sound has all the marks of an Agnello production job, with big bold drums, stereo panning, and plenty of room for the guitars. In this sense the record sounds halfway between 1993’s Where You Been – the first Dinosaur album with Agnello’s involvement – and 2007’s reunion of the original trio Beyond, which featured an even more direct, in-your-face feeling.

More Light splits the difference by including mellow, graceful numbers such as “Ground Me To You,” which features Mascis on keyboards sounding his coziest. The melody rises steadily and falls throughout the verse, making the song a slightly different kind of Mascis earworm. With the gentle whirring of Shields’ tremolo guitars in the chorus, this is musical comfort food at it’s finest.

Shields also pops up on “Does The Kiss Fit.” He again uses his tremolo/glide guitar sound, but in a different style. His playing mirrors the melody line Mascis performs on a mellotron. With the magic of mixing, Shields’ guitar fades out in the bridge and is replaced by a rip-roaring Mascis solo. The track is a sonic masterpiece and one of the melodic highlights of the album – as well as Mascis’ career at large.

Not everything on the album is as focused on melody, however. The title track – and album closer – is much more like the sonic experiments found on side two of My Bloody Valentine’s eventual follow up to Loveless, 2013’s MBV.

Walls of overdriven guitars and Mascis’ distorted vocals keep the track going for an earsplitting five minutes, chugging along to a motorik drumbeat. While not typical Mascis fare – save for the volume – it is well executed, and worthwhile listening for any Dinosaur or MBV fan.

Another weird track that appears towards the end of the album is “Can’t I Take This On.” Featuring an off-kilter piano melody, funky start-stop drumming, falsetto vocals, and a guest “vocal” by Bob the bulldog (yes, really), it is likely to leave listeners scratching their heads. However, it is a fun diversion, and may also elicit a smile.

Overall, More Light is a fun departure from the usual Dinosaur Jr. fare from Mascis. What it lacks in consistency is more than made up for in sonic textures, diversity of style, and collaborative inspiration. While Mascis may have had the final say on the resulting work, the inclusion of Shields and Pollard make this more than just a Dinosaur Jr. album in disguise.

Ultimatum Music/2000

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mike Johnson – What Would You Do

 

Mike Johnson – What Would You Do

By

Jesse E. Mullen

 

You’ve toured and recorded with Dinosaur Jr. You’ve made records with Mark Lanegan and developed a knack for writing and arranging. Heck, J. Mascis even lets you play lead guitar on several songs. But what happens when you want to strike out on your own?

That was the big question surrounding Mike Johnson in the mid-1990s. After fronting a grungy Pacific Northwest punk band called Snakepit in the latter half of the 80s, he was asked by J. Mascis to replace Lou Barlow on bass in Dinosaur Jr. – no easy task, considering Barlow’s heavy/melodic, inimitable style.

However, Johnson quickly developed his own style. Primarily a guitarist before joining Dinosaur, Johnson began playing figures on the bass which resembled lead guitar parts, albeit in a much lower frequency. Better still, the notoriously controlling Mascis let Johnson play a handful of guitar solos on the 1990s Dinosaur Jr. albums.

Johnson’s skills as a musician led to him being tapped by Mark Lanegan to help the singer kickstart a solo career. The Screaming Trees frontman was looking for a stylistic change from the art damaged grunge of his former group and believed Johnson to be the man to do it.

Together, the two artists developed a style which combined the crooning blues of Leadbelly with the poetry of Leonard Cohen and the glacial pace of the burgeoning “slowcore” sound. The albums they made together led to even more acclaim for Johnson, but he still had one creative itch left to be scratched. His own solo career.

Johnson’s next move took him even furth down the path of Leonard Cohen and slowcore. His first three solo albums gained a warm reception and a cult following in the indie rock world, but none of the attention the Lanegan albums received – or even like-minded contemporaries such as Red House Painters, Low, and American Music Club.

On his fourth album, What Would You Do, Johnson sought to tip the scales in his favor. Opener “Arise” has a warm, sultry sound reminiscent of Luna at their most alt. country. In the chorus, the song reaches its climax. Trumpets flutter and Johnson’s smoky voice fills the air, repeating the title.

“Names” is a chilly mope of a tune that doesn’t get dragged under its depression, thanks to Johnson’s genuine delivery. Musically, it’s a three-chord, minor key waltz, with Johnson repeating a lyrical phrase along with a descending third. Its late-night vibe calls to mind American Music Club at their most mellow.

On “Things…” Johnson opens with some fiery guitar work, jamming in an unconventional rhythm against the drums and bass, before settling into a two-chord minor key groove. Johnson and second guitarist Bret Netson – of Built to Spill fame – share a vocal which can only be described as sounding like it was beamed up from the ninth circle of Hell.

The record’s only cover is a version of “Deliver Me from My Enemies,” a song originally recorded by Yabby You and written by Vivian Jackson. While it was originally a somewhat hopeful reggae tune, Johnson completely reworks it into his own style, adding a stinging sadness and a slow, ringing resonance from his telecaster.

Speaking of gorgeous guitar tones, the instrumental track “The Introduction” – which actually comes towards the end of the album – features Johnson playing ambient, clean notes on his guitar, which resemble Slowdive’s work during the Pygmalion era of the band.

Some albums save the best for last. What Would You Do is one of those albums, closing with the haunting, yet strangely uplifting “Over.” And it does so with a twist. While “Things…” evoked the sound of the ninth circle of Hell, Johnson references Purgatory here.

Rather than penning his own lyrics, he reads several verses from Canto XVII of Dante’s Purgatorio. This brave act would collapse in a pile of hubris if it weren’t for the gorgeous instrumental backing. Johnson plays a heavily flanged and delayed part on his telecaster, a figure which finishes with a stinging arpeggio.

It all ends with the part when Dante’s guide informs him that he must discover the true nature of love for himself – the only logical conclusion to the album. Much like a cliffhanger ending to a film, Johnson leaves the end of the album open to interpretation.

While Mike Johnson is best known for his collaborations with other artists, it is his own solo work where we get closest to understanding the true nature of the man himself. On What Would You Do, he reached the pinnacle of artistic achievement while trapsing through the dark woods of his mind.

Up Records/2002

 

 

 

“Hand It Over,” and the First "Real" Ending

To Dinosaur Jr.

By

Jesse Mullen

J. Mascis regards Hand It Over as one of his finest creations. So why have so few people outside of his devoted cult heard it? Let’s travel back to the late ‘90s to find out why. Actually, let’s travel back to the early ‘80s, when Geoff Travis of Rough Trade formed Blanco y Negro records, in partnership with The Warners. Travis had set up Blanco, in an effort to recoup lost finances at Rough Trade, during their dreadful year that was 1982. This had a positive effect in the long run, as Blanco helped bring bands like The Jesus and Mary Chain in the ‘80s and, later on in the ‘90s, Dinosaur Jr. However, as the 90s progressed, finances at Warners had shifted to quick singles, and this had a profound effect on the lesser-selling artists on Warners, particularly the smaller (by major label standards) Blanco y Negro. Hand It Over was released in 1997. I think you know where I’m heading with this, but I’ll spell it out anyway. The label put zero effort into promoting it, and pressed way too few copies of it (which is why pressings of the record go for large sums on eBay and Discogs to this day.) As a result of the lack of Sales, Dinosaur Jr. (really just Mascis at this point, after firing Lou Barlow in 1989, and Murph quitting in 1993 due to nervous exhaustion.) were dropped by Blanco, and J. retired the name. Which is a shame, because the music encoded on the disc, (or pressed into wax, if you’re rich, and own it on vinyl like me) is some of the best Mascis has ever written. Opener “I Don’t Think” (not to be confused with Dinosaur’s 1994 track “I Don’t Think So,” from the staid, and genuinely underwhelming Without A Sound) kicks the album off with a heavy riff, and a falsetto vocal, before kicking into it’s melodic, wistful chorus, featuring vocal harmonies from My Bloody Valentine’s Bilinda Butcher. (MBV do-it-all Kevin Shields can also be heard saying “What?” at the end of the track, through the fuzz.) The track also features a bit of a surprise; a Melodica solo, played by either Mascis or Shields. In addition to all of this, it contains one of Mascis's most concise, and economical guitar solos, to the tracks advantage; it's meant to be perfect pop. Not one of his monstrous Marshall-blasting opuses. The next track starts off like Neil Young got a hold of a delay pedal, and decided to shake the cobwebs off, but then moves into more of a summery mood, with a mellotron break, and some mewling vocals by Mascis in his signature way. Whenever I’m traveling through Amherst, MA (Mascis’s hometown) in the summertime, this is my favorite track to play, as I stroll through the common. (Shields also pops up on this track as well, adding additional vocals to the final bridge.)

“Nothings Going On” features some chugging guitar work, and lyrically finds Mascis supporting a female friend in need, and reassuring her of his loyalty to her.

“I’m Insane” features trumpet, and backing vocals from Tiffany Anders.

“Can’t We Move This” has possibly the “biggest” sound of all of the tracks on side A (barring one, which I will get to in a minute), with its layer upon layer of multitracked guitar, pumped through Marshall stacks at top volume, a thunderous drum performance by J, and walls of strings, arranged by Mascis. Phil Spector would shit himself, if he wasn’t rotting in a cell somewhere.

The following track, “Alone” is possibly the heaviest Dinosaur Jr. song of all time, and makes “Don’t” (From Bug) seem quiet in comparison. An ominous three chord riff begins the song, before giving way to Mascis’s psychedelic churning, and his vocals come in. To be honest, the lyrics don’t even have to be deciphered to know that he is going through a rough time. He doesn’t even have to scream. And he doesn’t; he lets his guitar do it for him. I can’t even describe the tones that he gets out of his Jazzmaster, and pedalboard of over 50 different effects. You’ll just have to listen, and find out for yourself.

If you think the music described he sounds more diverse than the average Dinosaur Jr. album, you would be correct. Mascis seems to be more dedicated than ever, to work the arrangements to their most adventurous possibilities.

Side B kicks off with “Sure Not Over You,” a majestic, mournful tale of love lost, groupies, and “A vibe so bad I wanna puke.” Could J. see the end in sight? We’ll never know.

The next two tracks, “Loaded” and “Mick” while worthwhile, are the typical retreading tracks that you get with any Dinosaur Jr. record.

“I Know Yer Insane” is a scorching rocker, performed with gusto, and is the only track recorded with the then-current full live lineup, and the only Dinosaur Jr. studio recording to feature George Berz on drums.

This is followed up with the folk-y “Gettin’ Rough.” While not the final track on the album, I’ve always seen this as Dinosaur’s “The End.” Performed by J. on a banjo, and kick drums, he sees the writing on the wall; “The charm is gone” he sings “Time to move on.”

“I’m ready now, the question is how?” I get tears in my eyes during this one. It reminds me of times in my life, when I’ve gone through great change, like graduating High School, or saying goodbye to something/someone I love. I can’t imagine what it must have been like for J.

The actual final track, “Gotta Know” is a fitting ending to the Dinosaur era. A minor key ballad, with a wistful vocal from Mascis, we find our hero laying his love to rest, while looking to the future.

After disbanding Dinosaur in October of 1997, Mascis would embark on a solo tour in 1998, form The Fog 3 years later (releasing the equally underrated “More Light” a shoegazing/noise rock hybrid album that has aged brilliantly), disband the fog 2 years after that, and release a tribute record to “The Hugging Saint” in 2005.

Then something funny happened. The original members of Dinosaur decided that they work best when together, and reformed in the spring of 2005.

As of this writing, the reunited Dinosaur Jr. have released 3 albums, 2007’s Beyond, 2009’s Farm, and 2012’s I Bet On Sky. While the music on each of these releases easily eclipses that on Hand It Over, I still have more of an emotional attachment to this record. Mascis is playing with his heart on the fretboard, and experimenting more than he ever had, (and for the most part, ever would.) And that, my friends, is enough to make this critic satisfied.

Blanco y Negro/1997