Recap Dinosaur Jr. at Turner Hall

I’m tempted to write this review in all caps because Dinosaur Jr.’s Thursday night concert at Turner Hall was THAT FREAKING LOUD! I knew this was going to be a high-decibel show. Dinosaur Jr., after all, has long had a reputation for being one of the loudest bands in all of creation. I knew it, and yet I didn’t bring earplugs. Quite honestly, my inner adolescent kind of thought it would be cool to be pummeled by J. Mascis’ guitar. Distortion? Yessss! Distort my ears with the rock, Dinosaur Jr.! Bring it on!

But then I got scared. At some point before the band came on stage—while I was trying to get a handle on opener MV & EE’s meandering, spacey jams—I realized what I’d been staring at all night: three towering Marshall stacks, one next to another, where Mascis was going to stand. That’s six speaker cabinets, and they were aimed right at me. Lou Barlow had an impressive setup for his bass, too—he had four speakers. Behind this wall of amps, the stage backdrop—cover art from this year’s Farm—was largely obscured.

It’s interesting to watch and wonder about the chemistry between Barlow, Mascis, and Murph. Dinosaur Jr. formed in 1984; by 1989 Barlow was gone, and after 1993, Murph was out, too. But the three got back together in 2005, and Farm is the second album since the reunion. To watch them onstage, you might think some tension remains—they appear almost to be playing alongside each other rather than together. These guys don’t really look at the audience, but they don’t really look at each other, either. Were it not for Barlow’s occasional, silly banter (at one point he just said, “Milwaukee” a few times), the band would be completely disconnected from the crowd.

But did I come here to have Dinosaur Jr. talk to me, or did I come to hear some pre-grunge rock-god shredding? If they don’t look like they’re all in it together, they certainly sound it. The band played songs from across its catalog, with the hits sprinkled throughout the set. Every time I thought I might need to slip out and give my bleeding ears a break, they busted out a powerful version of “Get Me” or “Feel The Pain.” And while they weren’t, you know, dancing around in Spandex costumes or anything, they certainly weren’t boring to watch. All three Dinosaurs have effortless control of their instruments that’s stunning to see. When Mascis started gently swaying with his guitar—his long, gray locks covering his face—it was strangely charming. I guess it’s the intensity and honesty of Dinosaur Jr.

Barlow started the night off with a short, acoustic set of solo work. It was painful to watch—not because it wasn’t good, but because he was nearly drowned out by the jabbering audience. At one point, the bemused Barlow asked why everyone stopped talking when the song ended. Later he asked, “Why can’t you fuckers shut up?” I wondered, too—the constant murmur made it sound like we were at a wedding reception—but at least Dinosaur Jr. was too loud for the inconsiderate babblers to interrupt.