Homeward bound

Lou Barlow finds life after indie rock with Emoh

Lou Barlow tenaciously admits that “Round and Round” is by no means his favorite song by ’80s hair-metal vermin Ratt. So what’s a sparse and heart-tugging acoustic rendition of the song doing on the former Sebadoh and the Folk Implosion frontman’s first recording to be released under the nakedness of his own name? Emoh is an otherwise polished upturn for the brokenhearted-meets-upbeat indie-rock luminary. Bound by rich production qualities draped over loosely conceptual acoustic numbers, Emoh balances brash and melancholy sentiments, bringing closure to various chapters of Barlow’s legacy while opening the door for a new one.

The Ratt cover provides a singular and much needed outlet for comic relief. “When I play solo acoustic sets, there can be this stifling emotional atmosphere created by my songs when played one after another,” says Barlow. “A cover like that reminds people that I do have a sense of humor.” He continues on about abandoned Motley Crüe and Foreigner covers that didn’t make the cut. “When I started playing it live, people didn’t know what it was until I hit the chorus. Then they burst out laughing, which is great after laying all these totally claustrophobic, breakup songs on them.”

Since 1989, Sebadoh has served as the poster child for the four-track home-recording revolution adopted by everyone from Guided By Voices to Pavement. Barlow ushered in a new era for independent rock by splicing the punk and DIY aesthetics he honed as bassist for Dinosaur Jr. to a ramshackle, light-hearted but angst-ridden brand of homespun music.

Over time, his penchant for wallowing in poor production qualities was eclipsed by more advanced technology, while at the same time his emotional outpouring became more austere with each successive release. As the ’90s drew to a close, his dueling acts Sebadoh and the Folk Implosion embraced impenetrable production and arrangements, placing the groups at opposing ends of the bedroom-recording aesthetic they came from.

And although their respective final offerings, The Sebadoh and The New Folk Implosion, came to fruition as two of Barlow’s most accomplished albums, listener support wasn’t there. Adding to the stress, Barlow and his wife had relocated from Boston to Los Angeles, which was not an easy transition. “I moved to L.A. and watched my dreams fall apart,” he laughs with unease. “L.A. is the worst place in the world to move if you are a musician. It works if you’re really ambitious in that showbiz kind of way. But I’m not reaching for the stars. Even on the indie level there’s a lot of superficiality here. I’ve been able to get by and find my place here, but it’s been a bitch.”

From the flood of emotions pouring from opening number “Holding Back the Years” to the SoCal slow crawl of “Caterpillar Girl,” the recording encapsulates the downward spiral and cautious recovery from Barlow’s L.A. tribulations. But only after the record was finished did he acknowledge its conceptual qualities. “After I finished it and listened to all the songs, I realized that they were obviously addressing events that have occurred since I moved to L.A., or the process of making my house here my home.”

Introspective songs like “Home” and the sacrilegiously poignant strumming and crooning about the biological father of Jesus on “Marry” radiate with a refined disposition. But despite his personal challenges, Barlow claims that underneath it all, not much has changed. “To me it’s all still the same,” he adds. “Coping with changes and loss in my life is what I’ve always written about. I’ve done songs about Jesus as far back as my first cassettes, 17 years ago, but not for a while. I didn’t want it to be like, ‘Woo, I’m blowing your mind, talking about Jesus and masturbating after taking three bong hits!’ I wanted it to be more sophisticated than that.”

CHAD.RADFORD@CREATIVELOAFING.COM