Dinosaur Jr.
Dinosaur Jr.

And so, the awakening of the Young Dinosaur was successful, dissipating the doubts that surrounded the reunion of its original lineup. "Beyond" received an almost unanimous chorus of praise, being an album endowed with enviable brilliance, capable of giving new life to the stagnant rock scene of 2007. Why not take a step back to the origins of the adventure of Jay Mascis, Lou Barlow, and Murph by analyzing the self-titled debut of Dinosaur (not yet Jr at the time), dated 1985 and published by the independent Homestead?

The debut work of the Bostonians fully reflected the impulses of an American underground in full ferment. Hardcore had already evolved thanks to the masterpieces of Minutemen, Husker Du, and Black Flag, and Mascis and Barlow had already cut their teeth in this respect in the hardcore band Deep Wound (where J played the drums). The fractured rhythms akin to Minutemen in "Cats in a Bowl" are a clear legacy of that period, while the zeppelin-influenced hard rock, well before being put back on the pedestal by grunge, was paid homage to in the rather negligible imitation of "Whole Lotta Love" executed on "Mountain Man". Mascis' idea was still to wrap crystal clear melodies, reminiscent in harmonic constructions of a now out-of-fashion classic like Neil Young (here paid tribute to in the gentle circularity of "Severed Lips", with that falsetto), within a rough shell of noise, given by convulsive and hysterical accelerations, as in the emblematic "Does It Float": a bit like if Neil Young hadn’t toured with Crazy Horse for "Rust Never Sleeps" in 1978, but rather five years later, in the midst of the hardcore era.

Mascis' gamble worked, especially because almost all the pieces presented here, despite fundamentally relying on two-three chords, exhibit a compositional vein beyond the ordinary, starting with "The Leper": the bass slices through the air, the drums climb above it, and a roaring guitar breaks in at insane speed in the service of killer melodies, all seasoned with that bored and indifferent voice. Also memorable are the angular psychedelic vortex of "Pointless", the neurotic vitality of "Repulsion", the narcoleptic gait of "Gargoyle" (almost like the Feelies on acid) while "Forget the Swan" placed Mascis on par with Bob Mould for tension and inspiration in songwriting: clear acoustic brilliance and subdued psychedelic temptations pierce the usual wall of feedback, painting that slacker's spleen scenario - the first part is sung by Barlow, future leader of Sebadoh, it is worth remembering - that would interpret the malaise of an entire generation a few years later.