Sweet Apple can be counted as a super group only if your definition of a super group is extremely liberal. Their most notable member is J Mascis of Dinosaur Jr. But the legendary alt-rocker isn’t playing guitar or even singing; instead, he’s the drummer. Up front on guitar and vocals are both John Petkovic and Tim Parnin of the marginally-known Cobra Verde, and rocking it on bass is band namesake Dave Sweetapple, who is in J Mascis’ other side-project Witch. Separately Cobra Verde, Dinosaur Jr. and Witch run the gamut from pop-punk, proto-grunge and stoner metal,. So it makes complete sense that when you combine all three of them you get the most stereotypical of ’70s arena rock.
Wait, what? How’d that happen?
Who knows. Maybe they’re doing it as a gag, or maybe they all secretly want to be in Cheap Trick (who doesn’t?) butLove & Desperation is nothing but 12 tracks of straight-up classic rock. It sounds all right at first, but once the novelty fades it, sounds remarkably like what it is: four dudes who are desperately trying way too hard to sound like something they obviously are not. It occasionally works in spite of itself; “Hold Me, I’m Dying” has an irresistible hook to it, and the faux-metal of “Blindfold” is full of fist-pounding excellence. But for the most part it’s just average, and even a little boring.
Fans of the bands that make up Sweet Apple will probably be more interested in this than the rest of us. Although that Roxy Music-referencing cover should appeal to every heterosexual man with a pulse. (Tee Pee 2010)
Posted by Christopher Glotfelty (04/09/2010 @ 10:34 pm)
I’m a fan of a bunch of things in this video. To name a few: J. Mascis, big guitars, tennis and half-naked girls in towels. This reminds me of a Pavement video, meaning it forgoes meaning and lays on the wacky humor.
“I’m gonna play!” Ha!
What are we doin’ tonight, people?
Comments Off on Video: Sweet Apple’s “Do You Remember?”
Posted by Christopher Glotfelty (11/24/2009 @ 4:20 pm)
“Hi, kids.”
Last night, Dinosaur Jr. performed at the “Yo Gabba Gabba” live show at New York’s Beacon Theater. “Yo Gabba Gabba” is a spazzed-out Nickelodeon show sure to cause future problems for our youth. In the video, the band performs “Banana,” a song from the show originally done by L.A. ska band The Aggrolites.
Lou Barlow’s music may sometimes seem to defy definition, but one thing can be said for certain: As one of the more prolific figures of the post-punk generation – if not one of the more deliberately obscure – he’s maintained a steady presence through a variety of guises for the better part of the past 20 years. Starting his musical journey with the influential and irrepressible Dinosaur Jr., Barlow subsequently plied his talents through several high-profile indie outfits, Sebadoh and Folk Implosion among them. Each incarnation has found him mining a sound that’s as daring as it is defiant. Regardless, absolute devotees will testify that it’s in his role as a solo performer that he’s at his most articulate and expressive, and happily, this latest outing proves to be no exception.
Still, as always, it’s hard to get a handle on where Barlow is going with some of these songs. Layer upon layer of foggy melodies, cloudy atmospherics and vocals that sound like they were recorded in distant environs do little to encourage any hint of immediate accessibility. Nevertheless, he frequently connects almost in spite of himself. Shimmering set-ups like “I’m Thinking” and “The One I Call,” along with the lilting delicacy of “Modesty,” “Take Advantage” and “Too Much Freedom,” run headlong into the agitated sludge that blurs the more melodic prospects for songs like “Sharing,” “Gravitate” and “The Right.”
Happily, though, a more accessible sound does emerge as the 14 tracks wind down to their conclusion. Barlow segues into a mellower mode, and if there’s any comparison to be made at this point, it’s genuinely unexpected. “Take Advantage” and “Don’t Apologize” actually sound similar to…wait for it…Donovan, in traveling troubadour mode. Yes, it’s an unlikely shift, but then again, who better to pull off this chameleon-like transformation than an agile artist like Barlow?
Consistently intriguing at every turn, Barlow’s metamorphosis has always demanded a closer listen, and certainly Goodnight Unknown, as its title somewhat cryptically implies, isn’t any different. While Barlow may be edging towards accessibility, it’s clearly too soon to say he’s committed himself entirely to following a standard script. Still, Goodnight Unknown may be the closest he comes to earning any distinction as a higher profile indie rock god along the lines of, say, Dave Grohl, with whom he shares a certain renegade sensibility. Whether or not the current incarnation of Dinosaur Jr. grinds itself into extinction remains unclear, but one thing remains clear – Lou Barlow casts an indomitable shadow all his own. (Merge, 2009)
Sweet Apple can be counted as a super group only if your definition of a super group is extremely liberal. Their most notable member is J Mascis of Dinosaur Jr. But the legendary alt-rocker isn’t playing guitar or even singing; instead, he’s the drummer. Up front on guitar and vocals are both John Petkovic and Tim Parnin of the marginally-known Cobra Verde, and rocking it on bass is band namesake Dave Sweetapple, who is in J Mascis’ other side-project Witch. Separately Cobra Verde, Dinosaur Jr. and Witch run the gamut from pop-punk, proto-grunge and stoner metal,. So it makes complete sense that when you combine all three of them you get the most stereotypical of ’70s arena rock.
Lou Barlow’s music may sometimes seem to defy definition, but one thing can be said for certain: As one of the more prolific figures of the post-punk generation – if not one of the more deliberately obscure – he’s maintained a steady presence through a variety of guises for the better part of the past 20 years. Starting his musical journey with the influential and irrepressible Dinosaur Jr., Barlow subsequently plied his talents through several high-profile indie outfits, Sebadoh and Folk Implosion among them. Each incarnation has found him mining a sound that’s as daring as it is defiant. Regardless, absolute devotees will testify that it’s in his role as a solo performer that he’s at his most articulate and expressive, and happily, this latest outing proves to be no exception.