It was a cross-generational crowd last Saturday night for Dinosaur Jr. at House of Blues, including punks that grew up with Dinosaur in the 80s to Gen Z gamers who played “Feel the Pain” on Guitar Hero. I fell somewhere in the middle, an older millennial who got into Dinosaur Jr. from reading interviews about Kurt Cobain’s influences.

The merch table was up front and it sported the Dinosaur Jr. team colors of purple, black, and lime green. It’s a trio the band has carried since 1987’s You’re Living All Over Me, and they continue the trend with this year’s live album release Emptiness at the Sinclair (yes, the Sinclair in Cambridge). I was wearing the castle T-shirt that I bought already used at a vintage clothing store 22 years ago. I thought about updating with a freshie but I wear this rag with pride.

 

Ryley Walker opened the night. He turned on the heat, tossed off psychedelic loops and noodled twangy guitar over it, occasionally adding soft vocals. It was a short and succinct set, around five songs total. Another thing of note is that Walker set the tone that the bands will suffer no fools from hecklers. In between songs, someone shouted “Y-M-C-A!” Walker retorted, “Are those the only letters you know?”

Next up was a scrappy looking trio called The Lemonheads, featuring alt-rock professor Evan Dando. The Lemonheads came up in the late 80’s Boston scene and were a large part of punk breaking out into the mainstream circa ’91-’92. Dando’s knack for grunge-jangle pop hooks and chiseled good looks made him a breakout star in the early 90’s, when he clocked in overtime at MTV and graced the covers of magazines far and wide. 

 

The Lemonheads started up with the aptly placed song “It’s About Time” and continued with signature mid-tempo light grunge strummers. Given the formidable number of former Lemonhead members, I was expecting just about anyone from Juliana Hatfield to Murph of Dinosaur Jr. to sit in at some point. Seeing the 2020 reissue of the ‘heads album Lovey, I was also wondering if we would see former guitarist Corey Loog Brennan on guitar (but no). We were however joined by lead guitarist Chris Brokaw (Codeine, Come) which added direction midset to “Rudderless”, as well as the remainder of the performance. Brokaw offered a melodic counterpoint to Dando, and Dando responded by delivering more power and passion into his vocal delivery. We at the Dinosaur Jr. concert stan a good lead guitarist.

As far as track listing was concerned, I didn’t hold out hope for “Mrs. Robinson,” even though it was the band’s biggest hit by far, because Dando has vehemently declared that he hates the song. But it would have been cool if they had at least played their second and third biggest singles, “Into Your Arms” and “It’s a Shame About Ray.” It felt like they withheld too much, and the hits were made more conspicuous by their absence.

 

Finally, Dinosaur Jr. entered the stage. Banter alone would indicate that they were most excited to let us know when they were playing tunes off of their latest album Sweep It Into Space and their first album Dinosaur. Unlike Dando and Co., Dinosaur Jr. had no qualms about playing their iconic singles (“Freak Scene,” “Out There,” “The Wagon”) as well as their beloved cover of The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven” (but they left out Peter Frampton’s “Show Me the Way”).

The gear was a spectacle. It was a showcase for Guitar God J. Mascis’ impressive axe collection, who seemingly switched out for each song – Jazzmaster, then some kind of custom paddle-shaped Tele, a cream colored Rickenbacker bass, and more. A new wand for each spell. The shoegazing was literal as Mascis swayed about, ripping solos from beneath the shadow of a Marshall full stack cave. The shoegaze genre was also a clue for the mixing of instruments and voice, as the singing was about as loud as any individual instrument. Much like on the records, it was hard to decipher the lyrics from behind the guitar swell. Only the extended guitar solos stood out starkly in the mix, and they chopped through like a cleaver.

Perhaps that’s why the rock journalism classic “Our Band Could Be Your Life” by Michael Azerrad added so much to the story of the band. There is a mystique in the music, be it the opaqueness of the lyrics or the singular guitar tone. The history is a must-read companion piece.

Some stray highlights from the Dinosaur Jr. set include: Ryley Walker rejoining the stage for a rendition of “The Wagon.” Murph nailing the Ahmed beat during “Freak Scene.” A wicked glitchy tremolo guitar solo during “Freak Scene.” My favorite moment was the three-part harmonies for “Feel the Pain.” The set was screaming out for a showcase moment on vocals and “Feel the Pain” delivered. Given the crisp guitar solo and tight tempo changes, I concluded that if I were to play one Dinosaur Jr. song to an alien, it would be this one.

Also, early in the set, Lou Barlow entreated the crowd to sing “Happy Birthday” to his son Hendrix who turned 12 that day. Though Hendrix was at the gig, Barlow joked that he would spare him from joining onstage. It was fitting that after the band closed their set with “Just Like Heaven”, the PA played “Manic Depression” by Jimi Hendrix.

When the band left the stage, I headed out through the double doors. My ears were throbbing from the self-described “ear splitting country” that often got the band banned from venues in the early days for being too loud. I hoped folks brought ear plugs, but getting the ear drums blasted is part of the fun. And worth it every time.