The Codependent Self-Styled Nightmare

Sebadoh @ Bowery Ballroom 4/9/2011

Too Pure / On Fire / Skull / Ocean / S. Soup / Mind Reader / Got It / Drag Down / Dreams / Magnet’s Coil / Rebound / License to Confuse / Sister / Drama Mine / Nothing Like You / Crystal Gypsy / Love to Fight / Bird in the Hand / Careful / Together Or Alone / Not A Friend / Beauty of the Ride / Forced Love / Sixteen / Give Up / Junk Bonds / New Worship / Brand New Love // Not Too Amused / Willing to Wait

It’s probably for the best that Sebadoh released their best work before phrases like “TMI,” “emo” and “overshare” became commonplace. Lou Barlow and Jason Loewenstein are indie rock’s all-time beta male shame spiral champs, a duo of songwriters rivaled only by Fleetwood Mac’s Lindsey Buckingham in their skill for articulating neurotic relationship drama from a straight male perspective in song. Their current tour is focused on the band’s mid-90s peak, back when they were basically the rocked-out male equivalent to Liz Phair’s music from the same time.

Okay, but here’s the thing: Whereas I think a person can gain a lot of strength and wisdom from listening to Liz Phair, it’s better not to relate to Loewenstein and Barlow’s songs. Their music is a catharsis for unflattering feelings — pettiness, jealousy, neediness, foolishness and passive aggression. These are valid feelings, but…ugh, you know? I hear these songs and remember a lot of awful things. Worst of all, I hear similar situations repeating over and over.

Sebadoh “Give Up”

“Give Up” overflows with self-loathing. Each line comes off as self-condemnation: He’s a burn out man, typically bitter, locked into a vicious cycle, a helpless slob in a dead-end day job, a codependent self-styled nightmare. Not long ago, I shifted my perspective on the words and starting hearing it as a sketch of someone else rather than something to be directed inward. Either way it’s totally brutal.

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Sebadoh “Nothing Like You”

I love the way the descending, plodding bass line in this song sounds like the body language of a morose, brooding guy pacing around with slumped shoulders. “Nothing Like You” is about trying to make sense of a complicated, painful relationship that is already over. It’s broken, you barely get along, but you want to salvage it somehow, if only to justify the time and emotion you’ve poured into it. The simultaneous attraction and repulsion is perfectly articulated in the double meaning of the chorus: “There’s a lot of girls in the world that are nothing like you.”

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