Sub Pop Records PO Box 20645 Seattle, WA 98102

Ever since I bought Bakesale, I have been a fan of all things Sebadoh. Wait, let me amend that statement: I have been a fan of all things Lou Barlow. Since its conception, Sebadoh has been a beast that evolves, pulses, and constricts around the creative center of Lou Barlow. Bakesale saw the beautiful, chaotic union of Barlow with guitarist/bassist Jason Loewenstein and the result was a low-fi indie masterpiece. Barlow's mellow, romantic calm was appropriately countered by Loewenstein's dark, moody neuroticism. Harmacy, the follow-up to Bakesale, marked more of a departure by Loewenstein, revealing an edgier (and less satisfying) punk surface to his songs. Luckily, heartfelt lyrics in hand, Barlow kept his half of the album afloat.

The Sebadoh continues where Harmacy left off. Loewenstein's songs are as edgy as ever. They present a strange battle between pop and dissonance, as if Loewenstein can't decide whether to let the beast within him curl into a ball or rip out his heart. With this sort of tension, it's hit or miss. Tracks like "It's All You" and "Love Is Stronger" nurture the beast, but others like "Bird In The Hand" and "Cuban" let it die painfully. Most of his songs never really settle into themselves, leaving the listener feeling a bit disjointed.

Additionally, lyrics like "You give faith to deadly snakes / Don't burn your books for me" don't help the cause.

Barlow, however, once again playing the savior, redeems the album's other tracks. From album to album, project to project, Barlow has a distinct talent for saying things the way we wished we could say them. In the album's best track, "Love Is Stronger," he sings, "Please give me back my life / if you plan to let this die." That sort of straightforward eloquence is perfectly complimented by his elegantly smooth voice. Other tracks, such as "Weird" and "Flame" build upon his normal acoustic/electric sound by adding a variety of instrumentation (certainly influenced by Barlow's side project, Folk Implosion).

Sadly, though, the two competing forces never merge into a cohesive whole. Barlow and Loewenstein never become the Sebadoh, but merely reflect the personality of whoever holds the guitar. The end result isn't entirely unsatisfying, but it leaves me wishing for separate albums. Maybe the fact that the production of the album is far superior to any other release or the addition of a drummer that can actually play has changed Sebadoh's sound. If that's the case, it's time to break out the four-track recorder, oust the drummer, and let the Sebadoh live.