Sebadoh

III

(Domino - reissue)

Record Review by Adam McKibbin

“Soulbare introspection framed with fragile melody courtesy of…Sebadoh!”

For anyone who is approaching Sebadoh for the first time, there is a revealing tidbit on the bonus disc of the newly remastered III:  a final track simply called “Showtape ‘91” that contains introductory announcements like the one above.  A sonically schizophrenic trio—III marked the arrival of Jason Loewenstein’s contributions—Sebadoh laid the lo-fi framework for other celebrated bands that would follow in the ‘90s, particularly Guided By Voices.

III is the real collision point between the band’s many faces.  Coming back to it all these years later, it does have the whiff of a classic—not so much timeless as inextricably and wonderfully wed to its specific moment in time.  Founder Eric Gaffney had once told Loewenstein that Sebadoh would be a hardcore band; he was drawn to Lou Barlow’s dense, abrasive, unapologetically experimental collages of sound, so Barlow was an easy fit as a bandmate after he went into post-Dinosaur Jr exile (at the original time of III, a Dinosaur Jr reunion tour would have seemed like 2001 fantasy).

But Barlow was busy discovering that “quiet was the new loud.”  As his peers and their audiences gobbled up the waves of noise that would dominate both the soon-to-be grunge-filled waters of the mainstream and the avant-artsy leanings of the underground, Barlow is most effective on III when he’s playing intimate, ramshackle, lovely ballads like “Truly Great Thing” and “Kath.”  Those are one-man shows, recorded at home on four-track (the euphoric, confessional opener “The Freed Pig” is a prominent exception for Barlow).  Loewenstein has a trio of weird, early Beck-ish tracks smack in the middle—also done DIY style.

Gaffney, meanwhile, wrote for a full-blooded band and a studio, which keeps the album disjointed in the best way possible; III isn’t an album for the mp3 generation, meant to be judged on the basis of one track.  To be fair, it does lose some steam during its closing third, prior to the psychedelic trip “As the World Dies the Eyes of God Grow Bigger,” and the bonus disc sounds considerably less essential than, say, the ones accompanying Pavement’s reissues.  No matter.  III is well worth another extended visit, and is a must-have—at the very least, a must-listen—for lo-fi lovers and indie-rockers who missed it the first time around.

“Laughing at your shortcomings, tactlessly wielding destructive honesty to protect themselves from true feeling, eagerly buttfucking your grandpa, turning personal vendetta and small-minded revenge tactics into eventual cult status…”

Way to go, Sebadoh.