HAnd It Over Review by Power Of Pop

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DINOSAUR JR HAND IT OVER (BLANCO Y NEGRO)

J Mascis played so-called slacker rock way before the word became fashionable. Mainly because he took his "Son of Neil" obsessions to its logical conclusion to produce gorgeously sloppy interpretations of classic rock conventions in three superb albums – Bug, Green Mind & Where You Been. But to no avail, as whilst Nirvana, Pearl Jam, STP et al thrived on the aesthetic Mascis helped to pioneer, Dinosaur Jr was left on scrapheap hell. Quite obviously this "failure" took its inevitable toll on Mascis – his last album, Without a Sound was an unmitigated disaster and last year saw a poor knockoff ‘live’ solo effort that sank like a stone. Mascis had committed the ultimate sin – he had run out of ideas and he sounded tired and worse, boring.

Contrary to perception, Mascis is certainly no slacker and fresh into 1997, he hands over to his faithful devotees a revitalised show of strength with a slew of songs that proves once and for all that the news of Dinosaur Jr’s demise were greatly exaggerated.

Hand It Over finds Mascis in familiar territory, flexing his guitar prowess and songwriting abilities over twelve gems that lay to rest the demons that had haunted him the last couple of years. The sheer joy that permeates every second of music belies the pervading vibe of depression that the lyrics tend to communicate.

Thus the crunching metal attack of I Don’t Think sits easily with the wistful jazz-inflected Sure Not Over You. Ditto the blistering trash-fest of Can’t We Move This hangs comfortable with the tunefully pastoral Never Bought It.

Shining through is Mascis’ first-class fretwork and his bizarre sense of arrangement. Take the back-to-back concept of I’m Insane ( with trumpet riff ) and I Know You’re Insane ( with banjo plucking glee ), two examples of Mascis’ stubborn refusal to follow convention or formula. Throw in some mellotron strings and the picture is complete.

However, these highlights pale in comparison to the album’s defining moment – Alone. Casting our minds back again to the true source and one inspiration for Mascis’ awesome magnificence – a certain Neil Young. To the background of screaming wailing mental guitars, Mascis in his best falsetto whine slowburn serenades the curse of loneliness ( ala Cortez the Killer ). It is neither imitation, parody or rip-off but evolution.

Forever the bridesmaid, the outsider, Dinosaur Jr deserves the success and acclaim inferior bands seem to lap up effortlessly but then again considering the events of the last two years, maybe everything is now going according to plan. (8)

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