There's something so surreal about this phase of Sebadoh that it's hard to put into words. The sounds that emanate from this album are haunting, otherworldly, powerful, lo-fi, peaceful, and angry. So despite the fact that it's hard to describe, I'll spend the rest of this review trying to describe it anyway!
I first came across these songs long after their initial release on a compilation called The Freed Weed, which was a combination of Weed Forrestin and The Freed Man. It quickly became my soundtrack for a lost summer, with its folk-like happenings and torrent uprisings. I liked how it oscillated back and forth from quiet to loud. It was like a movie soundtrack for my life, following me wherever I went. Now the album has been picked up by Domino Records and re released as The Freed Man.
At first listen, these songs are thin, experiments, unfinished. After repeated listens, a complexity emerges that shows that these are anything but thin and unfinished. The lo-fi nature of the recordings hide the potential velocity of the music, but the power of the songs came through as I became more familiar with them. Each one has its own potential tornado lurking within.
There's acoustic jangles next to movie out takes and samples. Peaceful harmonies next to disjointed monstrosities. That in itself is maybe the best way to describe this collection of songs: polarity. There's a warring back and forth between calm and contemplative notions and angry but surging depths. It's like we're hearing the internal conflicts of a younger Lou Barlow play out in front of our ears as lyrics. Eric Gaffney is adding the monstrous sounds.
At 52 songs, there's enough music here to keep any listener sustained for a long time. It clocks in at just over an hour, but each song is likes its own corner of the album. It will take a long time to become familiar with each one. This could be your lost summer soundtrack... Days in the sun with early Sebadoh.
