Sebadoh

HOW lo-fi can you go? That was the question which hung lankly in the air at the Mean Fiddler on Wednesday night, as U.S. band Sebadoh shuffled into their first faltering tune of the evening. The slackers and grungeheads were stuffed into the Wexford Street venue, eager to see America's greatest underachievers, now into their sixth album of obscure classics. There was no big build up to Sebadoh's set, no exuberant introductions, Just three guys slouching onstage and strumming a few no frills anthems for the terminally apathetic.

Singer and guitarist Lou Barlow has a nice way with chords and guitar lines, and he demonstrated his sensitive lyrical style over a droning, modal guitar and bass backing. Jason Loewenstein, on the other hand, is an out and out closet punk, and he bangs out the lines on his bass while screaming with perplexed abandon.

And so it went on: some ragged, low key songs followed by some shredded hardcore workouts, and the crowd followed the mood by alternating between wired attention with wild abandon. Some brave souls even attempted to crowd surf during the livelier tunes, but they were soon hoisted off the stage and deposited out the back door, never to regain entry.

Meanwhile, on stage, Sebadoh carried on regardless, concentrating on their clipped melodies and quirky riffs, and providing a sort of antidote to the production conscious style of today's rock n roll.

Subversive as it was, however, Sebadoh's gig was doomed to leave a faded impression: the gentle tunes were just not strong enough to move the soul, and the punky stuff was still pretty lame, more slackjawed than gobsmacking.

Sebadoh appeals to indie kids because they invoke a long gone era when bands could go out onstage and muddle their way through a few nondescript tunes, content in the knowledge that they're at least providing an alternative. However, indie rock has since become vital and dynamic, and there's less scope for Sebadoh's shadowy, halfbaked sound.

The band's new album, Harmacy, will certainly become this year's equivalent of Pavement's Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain, but with the slacker constituency shrinking fast, Sebadoh might have a hard time giving the new indie kids the thrills they seek.