Farm

So, finally, to Farm, which every bit the equal of "Beyond;" maybe even better.

There’s also no denying the power of their bittersweet, socially inept aggression, and the ferocity of their sound on Farm. But, as truly gifted as Mascis is on the guitar and as surly as Barlow is vocally, this is merely Dinosaur fossilised, leaving you hankering for something a little more daring.

They’ve yet to lose it: Farm comes in a bit longer and countrified than its predecessor, but it’s also a more muscular and emotional album.

As catchy and well-crafted as these songs are, they never feel restricted or overly polished. Each track is given room to grow, stretching into extended intros, impulsive solos, and oft-repeated verses.

Farm actually bests "Beyond’s" triumphs.

The solos are majestic and Barlow even contributes a couple of thumpers. Nobody does this better.

This is a sound that's utterly unique to Dinosaur Jr., and what's different about them in their reunion is that the group not only realizes their individuality, they revel in it, getting lost in the noise, and it's hard not to get swept up with it, too.

Dinosaur Jr. set the standard for convulsive indie-rock guitar fireworks in the Eighties. Incredibly, the band's original lineup--guitarist J Mascis, bassist Lou Barlow and drummer Murph--hasn't lost a thunderous step.

Apparently, you can go home again, and it's still plenty loud and comfortable.

This is one mighty album, one that will tower over others like the green shrubs that tower over the buildings on the cover.

Although Farm sacrifices some immediacy and fire for expansive emotionalism and nuance, the album is a solid addition to the Dinosaur Jr. catalog and one whose highlights may prove even better with time.

Mascis's unique talents have ossified into a signature, so discerning any difference between this set of tunes and, say, his solo albums of the early oughts or latter-day Dinosaur Jr. albums is tough work. If, to you, that means more awesome Mascis crunchwork, then be psyched, because this record slays, the rocking is sloppy-yet-tight, and nothing on here would sound like a drag if tossed into a setlist amongst older classics.

Farm sounds like the best alt-rock album that 1993 forgot.

Farm, the band's second album since returning, may just be enough to prove naysayers and skeptics wrong. [Summer 2009, p.65]

With standards so consistently high, picking further peaks is a tough call but the surging wah squel of 'Over It' and 'I Don't Wanna Go There's' stellar guitar squall also score way up at the top of the scale. [Jul 2009, p.105]

Even though Farm may be the album we (should have) expected from Dinosaur Jr., it is still an excellent record that offers a variety of different qualities, while remaining as much fun to listen to as they have ever been.

The last half of Farm starts suffering from verse repetition, slower songs never matching the ballast of 'Ocean in the Way.' Farm does reach beyond 2007's "Beyond."