When Dinosaur Jr. roamed the early 80s music scene, things were different from today. Singles were released on cassettes and vinyl, music spread by word of mouth, and if the music was too loud, it wasn’t loud enough. Dinosaur Jr. defined their sound with catchy, ripping solos, thick bass lines, and detached vocal twangs. Unleashing an insane breed of melodic noise rock into the scene, they are still a unique trio of epic proportions.
On Tuesday, Oct. 13 their tour stomped into Madison’s Majestic to show what they’ve still got. They rocked hard with mountains of amps and passionate tunes, but still retain some nasty scars from the roots of near-extinction.
Similar bands have succumbed to extinction in decades past. Dinosaur Jr. also dissolved for a stint in the late 90s. Ongoing disagreements and intra-band turmoil threatened to do them in for good. Then 2007 brought a glorious reuniting of the original lineup and a cool comeback album Beyond. This summer’s epic release Farm solidifies their return to the recording world with some of their best material yet.
After ogling the titanic stage setup, the crowd finally bursts into applause as glum-faced guitarist/lead singer J Mascis takes his station. Dwarfed by three full stacks of Marshall amps, Mascis is in his own world. Bassist Lou Barlow is also surrounded by a serious array of speakers, while drummer Patrick “Murph” Murphy has each drum mic’d to the highest decibel. Humming feedback between songs hints at the distortion’s capabilities and power. Even the silence is loud. A small venue like The Majestic has likely never been subject to that level of sound.
Rarely can a band generate so much energy and convey such passion while having little to no stage presence. There might as well have been robots on the stage, but when those robots are face-melting, robot dinosaurs bent on eardrum destruction it’s completely acceptable. Drowning under the instruments, Mascis’ twangy drawl still nails the heavy emotions of the songs. Apparently the effect-riddled decibels provide enough sensory stimulation without any visual.
Mirroring the stage demeanor, the fans are fairly calm and mostly satisfied to head bob. For a packed venue, it is surprisingly mellow. The music has a subtle way of affecting everyone.
In further mimcry of the stage show, the crowd exhibits some tension. It’s like a volcano building up with pressure. At any moment, Vesuvius has to erupt, the energy is simply too thick. That time comes with cheery “Freak Scene,” a track from 1988’s Bug. It certainly generates a scene for the freaks in stage proximity, where cataclysmic moshing takes over the show’s short remainder.
As abruptly as they had arrived, Dino Jr. exits nonchalantly at stage right just two songs later. For a while, it looks as if they will stay there, but they come back for to play couple of songs for an encore. Mascis returns to the stage, and utters his first non-lyrical banter of the night by plainly asking what the crowd wants to hear. They settle with “Bulbs of Passion” and then wrap things up with their heavy cover of The Cure’s 1987 hit “Just Like Heaven.”
A spectacular representation of their whole discography left fans old and new satisfied and wanting more. They played a bit of everything and played the hell out of it all. As expected, songs from Farm are given the band’s preference.
From start to finish, Dinosaur Jr. rocked the Majestic with solid jams that broke eardrums and guitar strings. We can only hope to see more out of this one-of-a-kind band in the future, whether they’re into it or not. The music speaks for itself.
