Lou Barlow
Emoh
Merge


To say that at a certain point, Lou Barlow was the artist I related to the most in the world says more than you need to know about my mind circa age 20. After his rancorous divorce from Dinosaur Jr., Barlow began writing songs that dealt with confusion about love and sex and friendship and life on a series of records with Sebadoh, the Folk Implosion and solo (under his own name or the moniker Sentridoh). He was the poet laureate of the existential crisis, the bard of tortured frustration.

After a few disappointing releases, Barlow's first proper solo album, Emoh, is as brilliant and penetrating as we always knew he could be, only now you can replace the word "tortured" with "thoughtful." The record is a fantastic combination of Barlow's lo-fi sensibility with hi-fi production values. It seems that technology has progressed to the point that Barlow is able to work in the mode he seems most comfortable (at home) and not have it sound like crap. (The early lo-fi two-tape-deck Barlow works were amazing, but not very accessible).

In truth, only six of the songs were recorded at home. The rest were recorded in studios in western Massachusetts, Nashville and Los Angeles. His pals from Sebadoh (Jason Loewenstein and Russ Pollard) and the Folk Implosion (Imaad Wasif and Pollard again) pitch in, as does Barlow's sister Abby (who plays a damn fine cello). Producers Mark Nevers, Josh Schwartz and Wally Gagel offer help on eight of the 14 tracks. But even with all that assistance, the sound and vision of the project is unmistakably Barlow.

The title, Emoh (which, if you haven't noticed, is "Home" spelled backwards) is an apt name for the record. It's homey, but Barlow still has to put a twist on it, lest he seem too cozy with the concept of home. His voice sounds mature and confident, like he's finally comfortable with the fact that he's essentially a folksinger. There are the same upstroke acoustic guitars, but they're less downmind. The folk strumming is augmented by layers of vocals, keyboards, tape loops, strings, and other miscellaneous noises. The drum machines and other percussion throughout sound exactly like a heartbeat, adding to the personal throb of the record.

The songs deal with relationships, but not in the grand terms that characterized his earlier works. There aren't the same sweeping professions of love, expressions of terminal heartbreak or screams of betrayal. Instead, these songs reflect the more subtle tug-of-war equilibrium that comes in a long-term, committed relationship. Fights begin, confidences are broken, but at the end there's a coming together. It's dangerous to read too much literalness into songs, but it sure sounds like he's singing about (and to) his wife, Kathleen Billus, who ultimately has been the muse for all of Barlow's best work.

Years ago, Barlow sang of a love that was the "truly great thing, the love you've hoped to find" in which "any doubt will simply wipe itself out." But now, on the song "Puzzle," Barlow deconstructs the petty destructiveness that can arise in relationships. "In between my shadow and your light, I did lose you" Barlow sings. But later in the song he says he'll "mop up the spill with my heart" and recognizes that "In between my shadow and your light, there's an answer."

That's the growth in his writing in a nutshell—from thinking love will simply wipe anything away to realizing that the answer is in an ambiguous place somewhere between shadow and light.

The rest of the record is similarly insightful. "Holding Back The Year" and "Home" plumb the same relationship themes as "Puzzle." "Caterpillar Girl" has the infectious butt-shaking groove of his Folk Implosion hit "Natural One." His cover of Ratt's "Round and Round" legitimizes my own guilty love of that song. The "Ballad of Daykitty" tells a heartwarming but bittersweet tale of feline love. The only real sour note on the record is the mediocre "Mary," which tries to be blasphemous but ends up being mildly juvenile instead. (Theological note to songwriters: look up the Immaculate Conception before writing about it, cuz chances are you don't understand it. Not that I give a crap, but my Catholic mother might.)

Now that Barlow and Billus have a brand-new daughter, it'll be interesting to see where Lou's music goes from here. Here's hoping that the songs get even happier still.