Don't call him sensitive: Barlow bites back

By Julia Cheiffetz

You know you've made it in the music business when you get your very own cliché. Critics refer to their 1996 darling Beck as a "slacker manchild" with alarming frequency, while Eddie Vedder could have trademarked "tortured" and "angst-ridden" years ago. In the case of Lou Barlow--whose band

Lou Barlow looking deceptively sweet.

Sebadoh has received considerable attention in the past few months on the strength of their seventh and latest LP, Harmacy--critics might as well pin the label "sensitive" to the back of his rumpled woolly cardigan like a kick-me sign. He has "sensitive instincts," according to Huh. He's "achingly sensitive," says Spin. Rolling Stone runs the furthest with this ball in an October article which proclaimed Barlow "indie rock's consummate sensitive boy," referred to his "caring-and-sharing persona," and even asked the burning question, "Does Lou Barlow care too much?"

Lou, who comes to Toad's tonight with bandmates Jason Lowenstein and Bob Fay, is sensitive to such a charge. "It's not like I don't want to be a sensitive guy, but I think the term is a little patronizing. I don't consider myself that sensitive," he said. Hmm. Is there a loutish, Bush-listening, baseball-cap-worn-backwards frat boy lurking under the brooding poet facade? Are the Mia Farrowesque levels of whining and passive-aggression evident in his lyrics not the defenses of a hapless romantic-at-heart, but just uncontrolled outbursts from...well, let's allow Lou to supply the appropriate epithet: "Lots

Lou Barlow, Bob Fay, and Jason Lowenstein of Sebadoh play Toad's tonight

of people expect me to be a dick, and depending on the day, I might actually fit their expectations." But a sensitive dick, or just a dick? Herewith, an investigation:

Non-sensitive behavior sample #1: A Request magazine writer recounts an incident in which Barlow gives the finger to a busload of schoolchildren, catching the eye of one little innocent in pigtails. Mitigating factor: The child, hardly traumatized by the vulgarity, merely "giggles and covers her mouth." Even younguns can see through Lou's tough-guy schtick for the vulnerable dork lurking inside, trying on dumb-jock rebel poses like ill-fitting cords.

Sample #2: Back in 1989, after J Mascis boots him out of Dinosaur Jr, Barlow proceeds to bash out a series of anti-J tunes with provocative titles including "Freed Pig," "Asshole," and, most curiously, "Latent Homosexual." Later, he shares with writers visualization exercises whereby he imagines murdering Mascis on Saturday Night Live and then killing himself. Mitigating factor: All talk, no walk. It was all just chat-'n'-holler therapy for Dinosaur Jr's long-suffering martyr, whom Mascis once smacked over the head with a guitar during a Dino show.

Sample #3: Disturbing tendency to throw bitch fits on stage, fling guitars about in frustration, and stomp off after a half-hour of subpar playing. Mitigating factors: Lou's heartfelt regrets to fans posted on the SebWeb page ("My sincerest apologies to audience members in Toronto, Boston, Chicago...") and the constant, thrilling possibility that J Mascis might emerge from the wings wielding a Jagstang, never one to spare the guitar and spoil the child.

Sample #4: Lou continues to record for Sub Pop, despite their employment of a certain publicity rep who botched an interview with Mr. Barlow for a starry-eyed Herald reporter, dangling an indie rock dilettante's dream-come-true before her and then snatching it away with malicious, C. Montgomery Burnsian glee, leaving her to piece together a concert preview and a broken heart, with only a press kit to guide her. Mitigating factor: None, but I'm bringing my Dictaphone to Toad's tonight anyway, hoping to recover my stolen moment with the boy with the most cake and trying, like any consummate sensitive girl, not to care too much.

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