fri 22/11/2024

CD: J Mascis - Elastic Days | reviews, news & interviews

CD: J Mascis - Elastic Days

CD: J Mascis - Elastic Days

The wizard of introspection completely fails to peak, and that's the magic

'Subdued, submerged, but super-powerful beauty'

“I don't peak early / I don't peak at all,” goes the wryly self-aware line in the opening song here, “Take me to the Movies”. Thirty-five years since he started releasing records, Mascis isn't interested in peaking, progress or much else beyond delivering the same he always has.

Weary, anhedonic introversion delivered in a cracked Neil Young moan, and primal blues rock guitar soloing, are packed into perfect pop structures with pithy or heartstring-tugging couplets that twinkle like a razor sharp intelligence shining out from behind heavy lidded eyes. The differences between Dinosaur albums and Mascis solo are simply that the former swim through a soup of the sludgy guitar distortion that made the band so popular in the grunge era, while the latter, as here, are mainly acoustic.

Picking moments on this album is as hard as picking moments in Mascis's career. Occasionally something might stand out, like how affecting he can make a repeated line as simple as “Hey, I'm here”, or how a fingerpicked riff might obliquely reference something as hoary as “Stairway to Heaven” (“Cut Stranger”) or “Here Comes the Sun” (about three tracks here) without detracting from the absolute Mascis-ness of it all. But these moments only stand out a little, because the brilliance is that every single minuscule line or chord change is a hook: though he sings as if nothing matters, in Mascis's music, absolutely everything matters. It's that which lets him reference the past willy-nilly without sounding either of the past, or pastichey, a skill the likes of Oasis could only dream of. And it's that which allows him to keep on keeping on, now as ever, never peaking, but always numinous. Just like Mascis's entire career, this record is a thing of subdued, submerged, but super-powerful beauty.

@JoeMuggs

Weary, anhedonic introversion delivered in a cracked Neil Young moan, and primal blues rock guitar soloing, are packed into perfect pop structures

rating

Editor Rating: 
5
Average: 5 (1 vote)

Share this article

Add comment

The future of Arts Journalism

 

You can stop theartsdesk.com closing!

We urgently need financing to survive. Our fundraising drive has thus far raised £33,000 but we need to reach £100,000 or we will be forced to close. Please contribute here: https://gofund.me/c3f6033d

And if you can forward this information to anyone who might assist, we’d be grateful.

Subscribe to theartsdesk.com

Thank you for continuing to read our work on theartsdesk.com. For unlimited access to every article in its entirety, including our archive of more than 15,000 pieces, we're asking for £5 per month or £40 per year. We feel it's a very good deal, and hope you do too.

To take a subscription now simply click here.

And if you're looking for that extra gift for a friend or family member, why not treat them to a theartsdesk.com gift subscription?

newsletter

Get a weekly digest of our critical highlights in your inbox each Thursday!

Simply enter your email address in the box below

View previous newsletters