By Dinosaur Jr
Heavy on the Dinosaur, light on the Junior, dropout lifestyle gurus Mascis, Murph and Barlow return and it's not so much where you been as why are you still here. For anyone who's read Michael Azerrad's patchy but entertaining 'Our Band Could Be Your Life: Scenes from the American Indie Underground' this reunion exists within a framework of pseudo-psychology, like some sort of reality TV reconciliation between victim (Barlow) and perpetrator (Mascis) with Murph sitting alongside seemingly oblivious.
In a strange way it's both heartening and stultifying that for these middle aged men the same insecurities remain ("But I don't ever have it all / And I'm sweating trying to stall / 'Til I think I heard a call / But you're just laughing on"). And maybe there needs to be some stability for the population at large to keep their sanity within the continually expanding bombardment of the information age. Gee paw, will J ever get the girl?
The reason they're still around to rehash their old records like this is that there's been no tidal wave to wash the old sand castles away. So here they stand, decaying slowly through a process of exponential decline. 'Crumble' strikes of nothing more than the manifestation of a pension plan in action and yet I can't bring myself to dislike the track, after all warmed up leftovers can sometimes make a tasty meal. It's just that in the back of your mind there's something nagging away and it's this; pensions are the antithesis of rock and roll.