J Mascis’s laidback image doesn’t do justice to the Massachusetts musician’s reliably steady output as a songwriter and guitarist. Undeniably an alt-rock treasure since his band Dinosaur Jr was given the full length documentary treatment in 2021, this is his fourth solo album alongside five he has made with the group since they reformed in the mid-2000s.
It’s now 40 years since DinosaurJr began, first reaching major label success in the grunge boom. A young Mascis once turned down a job in Nirvana, and later was a part of the legendary Rollercoaster Tour, hitting the road with The Jesus & Mary Chain, My Bloody Valentine and a bottom-of-the-bill Blur.
He’s confessed recently that he can no longer tell when his new songs are “ripping off” his old ones, which is understandable given that certain familiar signatures mean that this album could have appeared at almost any point in his career.
Though his solo output has largely been more acoustic than electric, he certainly isn’t using his independence to experiment with psych-trance or drill. His voice, worn and scratchy as an old warm coat, sounds as it always has.
Most of the songs here wind up with a fuzzy, free-flowing electric guitar solo that shows why he often appears on music magazines’ lists of the greatest guitarists ever. His instrument squeals and rumbles magnificently all over the last minute of Right Behind You, a raw, deceptively loose sound that is uniquely his own.
At the same time, there’s a particularly mellow, almost country rock feel to What Do We Do Now, especially on I Can’t Find You, a beautiful, slow moving tune augmented by the steel guitar of Matthew “Doc” Dunn.
Mascis’s acoustic guitar dominates but is strummed with a liveliness that keeps the sound away from folk. There’s also a prominent role for Ken Maiuri’s piano, which tinkles charmingly on the sprightly Right Behind You and adds cosy chords behind the guitar on You Don’t Understand Me.
Even though the original line-up of Dinosaur Jr has been playing together again since 2005, it sounds as though they still aren’t the greatest buddies. In contrast, Mascis sounds supremely relaxed here, singing in his creaky, low-effort style over the light-fingered plucking of Hangin’ Out and letting the melody flow easily on the lovely title track. What does he do now? The same as always, pretty much, and it still ain’t broke.
