Lou Barlow's best work comes after break-ups, or when he's yearning for something he doesn't have. III, the classic record he released in 1991 after being dismissed from Dinosaur Jr., remains his band's most intriguing balance of heartache, anger, gentleness, and noise. That's partly because longtime co-pilot Jason Loewenstein had just joined the group and charismatic founding drummer Eric Gaffney was still in the fold, but also because Barlow was fuming at J Mascis ("The Freed Pig") and nurturing a brand new love with Kathleen Billus ("Perverted World," "Kath"). "Kath" in particular is one of Barlow's true classics, and shows how heartache can inspire him. It's a fragile, tense, warped lo-fi love ballad for his then girlfriend, whom he went on to marry.
That marriage has since ended, and Barlow's been living with a new girlfriend for almost a year. Perhaps the new relationship has something to do with the general calm and upbeat happiness of the self-recorded/self-produced Defend Yourself, the first Sebadoh full-length in 14 years and, outside of the five-song Secret EP released earlier in 2013, the follow-up to the overproduced The Sebadoh. In the years since that record, Barlow's been active with post-reunion Dinosaur Jr.'s awesome run, but Sebadoh has always been his place to shine and sulk. For Defend Yourself, he's joined again by Loewenstein and ex-Fiery Furnaces drummer Bob D'Amico, who came on board in 2012, replacing replacement drummer Russ Pollard.
As on past Sebadoh records, Barlow's material remains the real focus, though he seems oddly distant. Even when he's singing about subject matter as intimate as the fear and pain of watching kids grow up and say goodbye on the catchy "State of Mine", there's not much of a spark beyond the bounce of the backing music. Something he was great at during the band's stellar 90s run was wearing emotion in his vocal tone: you could feel the pain or elation in his voice, even if you weren't paying attention to the words. On III's "Renaissance Man", he sang, "Violence is cool/ One of two things real," and you could tell he meant it. Here, there are no jarring moments-- the collection lacks fight. Across the board, the vocal lines are mostly forgettable, and the singing's flat.
Barlow once had a knack for tossing off instant indie rock classics, like Bubble & Scrape's "Soul and Fire" and "Cliché", Bakesale's "Magnet's Coil", "Not a Friend", and "Skull", or Harmacy's "On Fire". On first listen, you knew these were special, even when they were understated. Loewenstein, on the other hand, though he's lodged memorable songs over the years, has never been as consistent a songwriter. His primary contribution, similar to Barlow on the Dinosaur records, has been to serve as a dynamic and textural contrast. But on Defend Yourself, outside of the ballads, Barlow and Loewenstein's work tends to bleed together with little to distinguish them, which makes the record feel longer than it is. Loewenstein's songs like the angular, plodding "Beat" and "Defend Yr Self" are bland 90s college rock at best; his countrified rockers ("Final Days", "Inquiries") come off like neutered Drive-By Truckers.
Barlow manages a few strong moments, like opener "I Will", a song that feels like it could last. It resonates in part because of its directness; this time it's Barlow who's leaving, and he's proud of finally taking charge: "Someone else/ Has found her way into my soul/ Things have changed/ No longer need to be with you." The fear of leaving he's shown on past Sebadoh (and Dinosaur) albums is replaced with resolve; it's kind of like seeing Hamlet finally take action, and it's a satisfying, bloody moment. But it's also an exception. On the whole, Barlow's songs on Defend Yourself sound self-satisfied, with an almost embarrassing "I'm doing this for me" gloat to them.
When I saw Sebadoh live in 1991 at Maxwell's, in support of III, Barlow was in rare form, playing taped gags on a boombox between songs: bits that made fun of Dinosaur, J Mascis, indie rock, Sebadoh themselves. It felt like therapy and catharsis. It felt punk. Most importantly, it felt necessary. Naturally, Sebadoh grew up and calmed down a little during their Sub Pop years, but that progression made sense (especially after Gaffney left in 1994), and they were rarely boring. The best that can be said of Defend Yourself is that it isn't embarrassing; they didn't lose the plot like the Pixies, and it's better than The Sebadoh simply because they got out of that L.A. studio and back to their roots. But it also doesn't add anything to the story or feel like it needs to exist, which is just about the worst thing you can say about this band.
