LOU BARLOW

I sat in my car staring out the window at a plastic blue Wal-Mart bag that rolled along the road like some sort of haunted capitalist tumbleweed. The light changed, and I headed onward into the depths of Appalachian Tennessee; each passing mile taking me further away from my poisoned words. Words spoken out of confusion and retaliation. Words describing the truth, but poured through a twisted metal sieve that had been forged to make a saint's voice sound like that of a demon. An anti-villain who lashes out in an attempt to hide his wounds. The meditation was the driving and the passing trees; circular reflection without resolution. Action made fulfilling through the simple and unfulfilling nature of the action. Enter: Lou Barlow's (Sebadoh, Folk Implosion) latest release, Free Sentridoh Songs From Loobiecore. Appalachian devil folk on a grizzly steel string guitar with sweetly sung prose; ornate verse that falls just short of making a complete emotional connection. But it is through this ambiguity that a certain satisfaction and comfort is achieved. Tracks like “Open Door War”, “Ride a Hearse”, and “Build a Throne” exist to remind us that sometimes a melody is all that is needed, as we can use our imaginations to fill in the rest. While other tracks like “That Kind of Year”, “None of Your Goddam Bizness” and “Don't Call Me Writer” lull with charismatic melody and modest existential confusion. Though not a full-fledged grocer of despair, Barlow is at very least the bag boy of the broken-hearted. Give it a listen, or try it as a soundtrack to drive to until you forget where you live, or any other such endeavor. And if you ever find your way back home, Barlow will be at Little Brothers on November 8.
Take care,
Franklin Furter