TANNARA YELLAND
Arts Writer

If you ever go to a Dinosaur Jr. show, which you should, please wear earplugs.

Even those of you who scoff in the face of premature deafness and laugh at the pansies who can’t stand the noise at a show should consider it. The Louis’ stage on Nov. 16 featured a wall of amps for the guitar player alone, with a few more for the bassist, and the dudes of Dinosaur Jr. made full use of all the volume available to them.

Despite being significantly older than the norm for a band playing at Louis’ and despite the fact that they have been playing since their formation in Massachusetts in 1984, J Mascis, Lou Barlow and Murph put on an intense show.

It is rare to see someone shred a bass as some guitarists do with their instrument of choice, but Dinosaur Jr. bassist Barlow definitely fulfilled the criteria. One has to wonder how deformed his fingers must be from years of calluses building on top of each other. But however misshapen and otherwise dysfunctional they may be, it all serves a higher purpose — to make Dinosaur Jr. sound as distorted, fuzzed-out and all-round awesome as possible.

Dinosaur Jr. employ an odd but ultimately highly enjoyable mix of distorted garage rock-type sounds and melodic guitar riffs. On paper that sounds like a terrible pairing but it turns out that, like so many other things, it is actually much better than it would first appear.

Mascis, the guitarist and lead singer, played not one but several of the longest solos I have ever heard at a show. Their archetypal rock sound was, however, at odds with the opening band’s sound.

Pink Mountaintops opened for Dinosaur Jr. with a strange mix of sounds themselves. The violinist was delightful, playing her instrument to full effect. In one song she created a creepy, bone-chilling atmosphere and in another she added the final touch to a dramatic crescendo. The band itself, though, seemed unable to decide if they were a folk-rock outfit or a commune of hippies who accidentally wandered onstage. While the music was interesting, it was often confusing.

Whatever you do, go see Dinosaur Jr. the next chance you get. And for the love of God, remember those earplugs.

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photo: Greg Reese