Given the amount of material that Lou Barlow has issued under sometimes misleading monikers (Sebadoh, Sentridoh, The Folk Implosion, The New Folk Implosion, Lou's Wasted Pieces...), it's sort of odd to consider this record-- the first released under his full name-- his solo debut. Barlow has recorded countless songs at a prolifc rate, paying little attention to recording (and, arguably, any other kind of) quality. Barlow writes songs like some people smoke cigarettes or pick their nose: Compulsively, and without regard to who's paying attention. However, Emoh is the most consistently strong record he's released since The Folk Implosion's One Part Lullaby-- and it could be his most melodic: There's no tape hiss, awkward count-off's, dialogue, or noise experiments here. Even if much of it was recorded at home, Emoh's 14 unassuming folk songs sound like they were created in a professional setting.
The album moves in whiter shades of pale lullabies, between acoustic grunge-lite ("Caterpillar Girl"), private backroom square-dances ("Holding Back the Year", "If I Could"), and traditional story songs like "Mary", a clever jibe at Christian folklore ("Immaculate conception/ Yeah, right") written from the POV of the real babydaddy-- he and Mary saved from retribution by history's (supposedly) most infamous lie. As melancholy or as victimized as Barlow has painted himself in the past, it's possible that all this time he just wanted to write campfire sing-alongs about his cats (see "The Ballad of Daykitty"). Sounding as direct and spontaneous as a living-room rehearsal for friends, these songs don't pretend to be much more.
The instrument that gets the most attention is Barlow's own voice. Whether it's the recording quality or just increased confidence, his voice is stronger and deeper here than on any of his earlier work, and self-harmonizing occurs frequently-- even dominating many of these songs. There are a few holdovers from his lo-fi past: "Holding Back the Year" closes with some sloppy vibrato from a lead guitar, and a Casio keyboard blurts out a solo in "Monkey Begun". But along with the occasional use of drum loops, these touches are used clinically and sparingly, only to add a bit of color to the otherwise spartan arrangements. For better or for worse, we're left with a little acoustic guitar and a whole lotta Lou.
Perhaps then that's why most of these songs never seem to rise above a whisper. The bubbling electro-folk of "Home" manages to stand above the rest, but while this new batch of songs is pleasant and often charming, they're not as memorable or passionate as Barlow's best. Emoh is a record that will please longtime fans-- and maybe bring back a few he's lost.
