Review by Jordan Cronk: Excepting perhaps The Fall, I’m not sure if there’s ever been another band that’s gotten as much mileage out of basically re-writing the same tunes over and over again as Boston alt-rock legends Dinosaur Jr. (and in both instances, I say that in the most respectful way possible). Dinosaur didn’t exactly arrive fully formed of course, but by the time of their landmark sophomore record, You’re Living All Over Me, the band’s classic sound was in place, never to be tampered with again. Even when the band imploded and the Dinosaur Jr. brand became more of solo vehicle for front man J. Mascis, that core sound persevered, unfettered by the ever-mounting trends of the ensuing decade. In fact, a great deal of grunge and shoegaze acts lifted directly from this basic Dinosaur aesthetic only to repackage it and call it their own. Still, there's something intangibly inspired about Dinosaur Jr. when the three original members appear on record together, and when the classic line-up of Mascis, Lou Barlow and Murph (can’t forget Murph) reformed for 2006's wonderful Beyond, it unsurprisingly felt like a seamless continuation of where the band left off in 1988 with Bug, and in the process exposed the band’s epic classic rock leanings to a whole new generation of music fans.As is the case with nearly any act still going strong after two decades of indie prominence, it’s become almost way too easy to take this kind of stuff for granted, especially as up-start blog-powered bands seep into the indie consciousness on an almost daily basis. So there is a certain comfort then in knowing exactly what you’re going to get with each successive Dinosaur Jr. record, regardless of context. Almost on cue, and just as my mind can’t handle one more Afro-pop pillaging indie-pop act, Dinosaur Jr. return yet again with Farm, the band’s second post-reunion album, and one that once again doesn’t break any sort of new ground for them (or anybody else), but in its own way is still a rather mighty document of a band confident in their chosen path as veterans of a dying breed on pure indie-rock. Sure, Farm may just be another document in the growing Dinosaur discography (their name becomes more and more prescient with every passing day, which I’m sure they embrace wholeheartedly), but at the same time it's sure to please long-time fans and newcomers alike.
As has been the case with just about every Dinosaur Jr. record that came before it, Farm leads with its best foot forward: “Pieces” tears in unabated with Mascis’ signature guitar pyrotechnics and endearingly nasal vox, ably setting the table for 11 more tracks of basically the same thing. Though, on the whole, Farm finds the band stretching out a bit more than they have in the past, with a handful of tracks crossing the 7-minute barrier. As a result, Farm is paradoxically long on breadth and short on ambition, and while this can grow tiring as the album trudges toward the one-hour mark, a whole lot of it is still invigorating in small, self-contained doses. A steady intake of Dinosaur Jr. should be in every serious music fan's diet, and Farm certainly provides plenty of nourishment for those who have exhausted their copies of Beyond.
Farm leaves me in odd position as a critic then, as it doesn’t really cover a whole lot of stylistic ground, while individual songs can feel interchangeable with most anything off their last album (you’ll notice I haven’t really gone into any specifics on individual tracks). It’s all still rather good though, and even when tracks seem to exist only to show off Mascis’ unparalleled ability to wank-out while keeping a straight face, Farm scratches a particular itch so well that it's hard to complain about the results. They certainly don’t have the dynamic range they once did—Farm is all rawk all the time, and even the ballads can fry your synapses—but no one does it quite like them, and for that I'm grateful (although I'm even more grateful for that brilliant cover art). The two requisite Barlow penned tracks are solid too, and if nothing else they genuinely pique my interest for the inevitable Sebadoh reunion album. As I’ve stated before, there's a certain rush that only Dinosaur Jr. can provide, and this lazily anthemic niche that’s been so conducive for Mascis for over two decades now will simply never go out of style. Dinosaur Jr., whoever you are, we love thee. (★★½)
LAST WORD: The second post-reunion album from the original Dinosaur Jr. line-up is a sprawling extension of their last record, and guess what, it sounds exactly how you’d imagine. What did you expect, keyboards?
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