On the day I left for my first year
of college, way back in 1994, I wandered into a local record store
desperate to find some new music for the long solo drive ahead of
me. On the shelf I found a cassette copy of the Sebadoh album
Bakesale. Knowing only that it had one of guys from one my
favorite bands, Dinosaur Jr., in it, I picked it up. Driving along
I-96 and listening to song after song, I had the moment that is
life-defining for every music fan: I found my band. Bakesale
became my favorite album of all time that day, and I’m proud
to say it still holds that title; Sebadoh, and especially the songs
and work of Lou Barlow, have remained very important to me (and
masses of other devoted fans) for over a decade now. In his varied
musical career, Barlow has always surprised us. From his work in
The Folk Implosion, to his solo Sentridoh albums, to his recent
reunion with Dinosaur Jr., Barlow has made a career of staying simultaneously
true to his roots and unpredictable. In a year that has seen the
big reunion, the release of his gentle new solo album, EMOH,
and the birth of his daughter, Hannelore, Barlow still has time
to swing through Ann Arbor, the first stop of a mini U.S. tour.
Ann Arbor Paper: What is a typical day like for
you these days?
Low Barlow: Up at 4:30 a.m. to feed cats and worry,
check e-mail . . .turn the TV on, then off, wait till Hannelore
is up, eyes open . . . smiling . . . change her, keep her entertained
while Kath catches extra sleep. Make breakfast . . . then either
muck around chipping way at my website or making plans to make plans.
Then we run errands, then we have dinner, Hannelore just started
on solids. We have proper sit-downs. It’s a lot of fun. Then
we bathe the baby, Kath feeds the baby to sleep and then we steal
an hour or two before tucking in.
A2P: I know a lot of people are looking forward
to your upcoming show here in Ann Arbor, but many people may not
know of your history here in Michigan—you grew up in Jackson.
How long were you in Jackson? Any special memories you have of Michigan
during that period of time?
LB: I lived in Jackson from the age of 2 ‘til
12—’68 to ’79. We lived on a dirt road near the
train tracks with a high school just across the field from our house.
I spent most of my time outdoors doing fun kid stuff. I moved just
before becoming an awkward teen, so it’s mostly good stuff
I remember. I hosted a kids’ show called "Scrambled Eggs"
for a week with a girl from my 5th grade class. Fifth grade was
a good one for me.
If I had stayed in Jackson I might’ve gone to college. I was
a good student. When we moved to Massachusetts, I immediately went
into hiding, discovered punk rock and never did my homework again.
A2P: Will it feel strange to be center stage again after
spending a little time playing bass in Dinosaur Jr.?
LB: Yes, it will. I spent the summer yelling my
head off and playing as loud as a jackhammer. Now, not so much:
acoustic guitar, no amplifier . . .
A2P: What can our readers expect from your upcoming
solo show here in town?
LB: I don’t know. I let my audience guide
the shows if they’re up for it. Otherwise I just plow through
a selection of songs to sing and play as well as I can, tell some
stories, hope for the best . . . or just get loaded and blither
on for hours. Either way I enjoy it.
A2P: The thing that first struck me while listening
to EMOH was how it, to me, sounded like a combination of all your
past work. From the Folk Implosion stuff to Freed Weed-era Sebadoh
to your Sentridoh work . . . it was all in one record. Was that
a deliberate decision or was it a more natural process?
LB: As I ran out of money I was forced into doing
the record at home. I enjoyed being alone. In the studio I often
defer to the opinions of others. I’m a born follower so it
was best that I end up alone with the music and my opinions.
A2P: Do you find when you write songs now you have
a more varied sound compared to your lo-fi sounding songs written
fifteen years ago?
LB: I think the lo-fi stuff has a cool texture
to it. I did a lot of layering and experimenting, so in a way I
feel like the sound I got then was more unique. The new stuff has
more instruments on it.
A2P: How long did it take to record EMOH? What
was the process like?
LB: It took a while, some proper ‘sessions’
scattered over a year and a half. Lotsa home time, trial and error
with my recording set-up. I used a few songs that I had completed
over three years ago.
A2P: I was happy to see that the album was released
by Merge Records. How did that come about?
LB: I wrote Mac (Superchunk frontman/Merge Records
co-head honcho) an e-mail. We had met many times in the past, played
shows together. Superchunk covered a few of my songs real early
on and put them on a 7-inch. I heard “Vincent” by M.
Ward and “Kill The Moonlight” by Spoon and realized
that Merge is the only label that survived the indie rock wars being
unabashedly devoted to pop music, operating on a punk rock level
and never selling out to a parent corporation. I really wanted to
be a part of that again.
A2P: Looking back, what are your thoughts and feelings
on the Dinosaur Jr. reunion tour? Are there any future plans with
J and Murph in the future?
LB: A few shows here and there, nothing beyond
that right now. The tour we did was great, a pleasant surprise,
a success. But we’re still the same guys at heart and that
keeps any ambitions in check.
A2P: So many of your songs seem to deal with some
intense emotional issues from your past. “Together or Alone,”
“Brand New Love” or “Soul and Fire” come
to mind. Is it hard for you to play those songs live now? Do you
have to bring yourself back to the emotional state you were in when
you wrote them?
LB: The songs are about understanding pain, where
it came from and why. Taking responsibility for it. Each song is
a tiny anthem for me, I like playing them a lot.
A2P: You covered RATT’s immortal classic
“Round-n-Round” on EMOH. Were you ever a fan of ‘80s
LA metal?
LB: Well, I’ve always listened to pop music.
I embraced Top 40 and underground noise both. I thought there were
a couple of great songs recorded by hair metal bands amongst some
of the worst music ever made. The first two Crüe records have
some gems. Cinderella was one of my favorites. They had some huge
hooks in their songs, like “Shake Me” and “Somebody
Save Me.”
A2P: I went to see the 2004 Sebadoh show with you
and Jason Loewenstein last year in Detroit. Although I loved the
show, there was an awfully strange crowd reception to you guys.
What was that tour like overall? Any future Sebadoh plans?
LB: Sebadoh always had mixed reactions. We had
a lot of great nights on that tour. We’ll probably get together
again, don’t know where, don’t know when.
A2P: Once when someone was trying to explain “emo”
music to me as rock songs with heavy emotion to them, I replied
by saying, “Oh, so you mean like Sebadoh!” The person
replied by saying that she didn’t think many emo kids knew
about Sebadoh. When I listen to records like Weezer’s Pinkerton
or some other emo-ish stuff, it always sounds to me like they are
just ripping off Sebadoh’s Bubble and Scrape? Am
I nuts for thinking this?
LB: I know Rivers dug that album but I don’t
hear anything in Weezer that could be considered a rip-off. They’ve
always had a style of their own. I’m not sure what emo is
but I think I’ve been fairly ‘emo’ over the years.
I thought maybe the title EMOH would inspire a few impulse
buys with the youngsters.
A2P: Do you have any songs you’ve written
that you look back on now and think, “That is THE definitive
Lou Barlow song”?
LB: “Punch in the Nose,” the first
song I wrote and recorded.
A2P: In your long musical history, what are you
most proud of?
LB: The “Losercore” 7-inch and “You’re
Living All Over Me.”
A2P: 2005 has quite a busy year for you with the
birth of your daughter, release of your record, and all the Dinosaur
Jr. action. How can you keep up?
LB: Keeping up isn’t an issue, I am being
dragged along by all of it, happily. It’s all more powerful
than me, and I have surrendered.
Lou Barlow plays the Blind Pig with Cole Guerra Sunday, October
2. Doors 9:30 p.m. $10. 18 and up. 208 S. First, Ann Arbor.
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