Tag Archives: The Folk Implosion

Sebadoh @ Dingwalls, Camden, 04/11/14

Until yesterday the only Lou Barlow gig I’d ever been to was a New Folk Implosion show at Reading 2001 where the trio played mostly older songs (Dare to be Surprised-era stuff). It was great, and it was a surprise to me how bloodless the New Folk Implosion’s record was. So I was looking forward to Sebadoh, but with no real expectations. They’re not young guys anymore. They never really were about reaching out and trying to convert a young, mass audience, and anyway, I’m more than aware of their reputation in the 1990s for being shambolic and inconsistent, albeit with the potential to suddenly transcend their limitations and become spellbinding. Whatever was going to happen would happen, and I was cool with that,

So the first half of the set was a surprise. The frequent swapping of guitar, bass and lead vocals that Barlow and Loewenstein have always had to do at Sebadoh shows has been replaced by extended mini sets, with each songwriter taking six or seven tunes in a row before passing off to the other. At the beginning of the gig, with Barlow stage right at the lead vocal mic, guitar in hand, the band tore through their songs without pausing for breath, heavy on tunes from Bakesale and Harmacy, with a few highlights from new record Defend Yourself (such as album opener I Will).

During Loewenstein’s turn at the mic (even heavier on Bakesale tunes – Careful, Not Too Amused, Shit Soup and Drama Mine all appearing), though, the evening lost its focus. The tuner pedal the bass was plugged into began playing up, a fact which the band and the sound engineer struggled to diagnose for several songs, and Loewenstein abandoned the set list (literally crumpling it up and throwing it away). The band played the rest of the show off the top of their heads, taking requests, swapping guitars and retuning them more frequently, and doodling between songs. They did it in such good humour that they mostly got away with it – that Loewentsein gives good stage patter didn’t surprise me much, but Barlow’s levity was more unexpected – but the pace of the set slowed noticeably and my attention began to wander at times.

Dingwalls is a good venue for them: small enough to be sold out and buzzing, big enough to feel like a for-real gig. The group are pretty well preserved — despite Barlow’s current resemblance, pointed out by my friend Sara, to Jerry Garcia, all curly mop and facial hair and glasses — and played with a level of power and commitment that many younger bands would struggle to emulate. Sebadoh in the 1990s, with the erratic Eric Gaffney and then the barely competent Bob Fay behind the drums, couldn’t play their way out of a paper bag, but with Barlow an improved guitarist and always a solid bass player, Loewenstein competent at any instrument he turns his hand to, and new drummer Bob D’Amico a hard-hitting, no bullshit rock drummer, the latest line-up of Sebadoh was tight and powerful, and far, far louder than I’d been primed for.

I don’t want to be one of those guys always moaning about sound, but it would be nice if more live sound engineers worked from the vocals downwards – as in, if the vocals are this volume, how loud can the drums be without stepping on them? As opposed to, how loud can I make the drums and guitars while still having the vocals be just about perceptible? Indie rock is not blessed with many talented vocalists, but Barlow is one of them. It was a shame his voice was often so hard to discern. As it was, my ears are still ringing from the harsh cymbals and guitar sound, 24 hours after the show ended. Ten years ago, I wouldn’t have worried. Nowadays, I curse myself for not having taken earplugs. Yet this was not a balanced mix that happened to be loud, so it’s not just me being a fuddy-duddy; the drums and guitars were too loud.

A bigger issue, and one that I feel like a bit of a heel bringing up, is that Lou did comparatively few of the songs I most wanted to hear. He’s been forthcoming in interviews and in song about the end of his marriage, and given that the majority of the songs I talk about (if not all of them) are love songs to his ex, I can see why he might prefer the bouncier or more aggressive songs from his archive right now, but Beauty of the Ride and Too Pure did hint at what the gig might have been if we’d had just a little more Soul and Fire, so to speak.

sebadoh july
Sebadoh, July 2014: l-r D’Amico, Loewenstein, Barlow

 

Everything You Know is Wrong – The Production Club, featuring Lou Barlow

A look at Wally Gagel’s discography is instructive. Before 1999, he worked frequently with the likes of Sebadoh, Superchunk, Juliana Hatfield, and Tanya Donelly – all the Boston-area stalwarts. The relative commercial success of Belly and Folk Implosion was the closest he got to the mainstream.

After appearing on the American Beauty soundtrack through the inclusion of a Folk Implosion song, though, his work gets more and more high profile: the Eels, Muse, New Order, even the Backstreet Boys. Now he mixes Rihanna (and has mixed Jessica Simpson and Hannah Montana/Miley Cyrus) records and has steady employment engineering iTunes Originals sessions for a certain internet-only music distributor, which actually sounds like quite a fun gig (working with a very wide range of artists across pretty much every conceivable musical style – most engineering types would find that kind of challenge exciting, even if they weren’t wild about the individual artists).

It’s a long way from the rough and ready early Folk Implosion and Mary Lou Lord EPs.

When Gagel parlayed his new-found industry clout into a record deal for his own project in 2003, he already had the profile that would have allowed him to reach up and out to big-name guest stars, and maybe score a few minor hit singles on the back of the star’s name recognition. It says a lot about him, then, that instead it was his old crew that Gagel asked to come in to front his songs, and Jon Doe from X, Emm Gryner, Donelly, Lou Barlow and Hafdis Huld (from 4AD band Gus Gus) duly answered the call.

The music is good, if not massively original. If you can imagine a halfway point between contemporaneous Moby and Chemical Brothers records, that’s about where the Production Club’s Follow Your Bliss sat. It frequently sounds tailor-made for soundtracking Hollywood action scenes, making his current employment very easily explicable. Its quieter, sparer moments were stronger, giving space to the vocalists to communicate their own personalities.

My favourite amongst these more vocal-led tracks was Everything You Know is Wrong, featuring Lou Barlow and Emm Gryner. It sounds, unsurprisingly, like the Folk Implosion – in fact, it most closely recalls Natural One, from the soundtrack to Larry Clark’s Kids, which had been a minor hit single in the US in the mid-1990s. Same sort of tempo and rhythmic feel, same kind of sparse, drum-led arrangement, but a more fully realised song, one enhanced by Barlow’s improved vocal abilities; over the second half of the nineties, Barlow had matured into a fine singer, most noticeably on the Folk Implosion’s One Part Lullaby and the final Sebadoh album before their 14-year hiatus (The Sebadoh). So much more confident was Barlow, in fact, that in the video for this song he stands up front at the microphone alone, smartly attired, specs-less and sans guitar, while Gagel – the primary artist and composer – sits at the back playing the drums. For old Folk Implosion fans who hadn’t got into the New Folk Implosion – with its full-band sound, Sebadoh-lite acoustic guitars and generally soporific air – this was a nice little nostalgic blast.

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Wally Gagel

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Dohnosaur Jr!. l-r Bob d’Amico, Lou Barlow, Murph, Jason Loewenstein, J Mascis. Well who’d have thought, eh?