The early Dinosaur Jr. were defined by two qualities: volume and volatility. The stewing bitterness between guitar-slinging introvert J. Mascis and bass-pounding extrovert Lou Barlow resulted in some of the most frazzled and ferocious music of 1980s indie rock. The acrimony was so deep-seated that, even after Barlow's exit in 1989, he went about writing spiteful songs about his ex-bandmate like Taylor Swift writes about ex-boyfriends.
But the first official live document of Dinosaur Jr.'s original-- and following their 2005 reunion, now current-- line-up bears little evidence of the band's eardrum-rupturing, tension-fuelled reputation. Sounding like a crud-encrusted cassette that's been left to decay under the driver seat of your dad's Oldsmobile for the past two decades, Chocomel Daze is less a showcase of a legendary power trio touring behind their heaviest, most incendiary album (1987's You’re Living All Over Me, whose 25th anniversary this set is meant to commemorate) than a reminder of the seventh-generation Dictaphone bootlegs fans had to satisfy themselves with back in the days before we could dial up last night’s show on YouTube.
Recorded before a small crowd in the Dutch town of Nijmegen, Chocomel Daze wears its flaws proudly (the first minute of the opening "Severed Lips" is actually muffled to the point of indecipherability), leaving in all the awkward between-song pauses and background chatter that threatens to overpower the main attraction. The setlist is divided evenly between 1985's self-titled album and You're Living All Over Me, with the band aggressively attacking tracks from the former, while seemingly still getting a handle on material from the latter. (Mascis hits the wrong notes on the crunchy chorus riff of "The Lung".) But even with gnarlier takes on "Does It Float" and "Gargoyle", there's really no reason to reach for these versions over their studio-album counterparts. Aside from Mascis' phaser-pedal flourishes and occasionally hammy vocal tics (he sounds suitably repulsed during "Repulsion"), what you get are simply more slack, sloppier, and shoddily recorded renditions that don't come close to inciting the equilibrium-imbalance that normally results from being in the room while this band plays. And lord knows, you're not going to get much in the way of interesting, memorable stage banter from this crew, beyond Barlow's brief shout-out to the titular Dutch brand of chocolate milk.
If there had to be a Dinosaur Jr. live album released this year, fans would've undoubtedly been better served by a hi-fi recording of this fall's I Bet on Sky tour. Not only are Dinosaur Jr. a much tighter unit in their friendly 40s than they were in their testy 20s, but their current setlist contains some genuine revelations that better justify the canonization: a full-torque flashback to their pre-Dinosaur hardcore band Deep Wound; Barlow-bruised versions of Dino's more polished 90s-era MTV hits; and a searing "Forget the Swan" that gets stretched out to "Like a Hurricane" levels of grandeur. Had Mascis and Barlow never reconciled, there might be a greater historical value to Chocomel Daze as a portrait of the band's formative phase. But, as it stands, why stare at a faded Polaroid when you can still go experience the real deal?
