Together again, or something

>> Everyone’s freaking over Dinosaur Jr.’s
reunion, except Dinosaur Jr.’s J Mascis

THUNDER LIZARDS: J Mascis (L) and Dinosaur Jr. BRANTLEY

by JOHNSON CUMMINS

Dinosaur Jr. have managed to beat the odds with Beyond, their new record that holds up great next to their late-’80s peak-period classics You’re Living All Over Me and Bug—even though they hadn’t spoken in years. Guitarist/singer J Mascis is hardly bursting with enthusiasm about the reunion, though—or anything else, for that matter. His interview demeanour is monosyllabic and peppered with long pauses that had me wondering if he was suffering from narcolepsy. “I guess it’s going alright,” he says of the reunion. “We’ll just keep going and see what happens.”

The guy is no Noel Gallagher in the quotes department, but on Beyond, Mascis bursts through the stratosphere. Having helped usher the guitar solo into indie rock, Mascis’s playing has only improved over the years, and he squeezes in more solos than ever before. As spirited as his fretwork is, Mascis of course couldn’t care less about talking about it. “I guess guitar solos are probably my favourite part of playing live,” he says—adding, after a long long pause, “I like ’em.”

Although Mascis was never really that keen on the idea, bassist Lou Barlow (of Sebadoh fame in recent years) had said he’d be “psyched for a reunion,” despite his unceremonious sacking in 1989. To say there was bad blood between Mascis and Barlow would be putting it mildly. After some gentle nudging from his manager, Mascis finally agreed to do a small tour with the band in 2006, resulting in a return to the studio shortly after. To say everything was copacetic between band members, though, would be a stretch. “It’s still a bit awkward [being around Murph and Barlow] but it gets better over time.”

Like a lot of grunge-era bands hitting the reunion circuit, a huge portion of their fans never had a chance to see the band in their prime. “All of these kids have been showing up to the shows. It’s kind of funny because they don’t really know what to do, so they’ll start slamdancing like we’re [punk band] Fear or something. I guess people are romanticizing the ’90s now or something. I don’t even know how they really know about us. Maybe, uh,”—long pause—“the Internet or something.”

With Uncut and Awesome Color at Club
Soda on Saturday, June 9, 9 p.m., $28, all ages