Indie rock is dead. Sad, but true. New York’s Village Voice recently ran an article enititled "The Graying of Indie Rock," about how everyone who once made the genre lively and vital is getting older, and how many of them are moving into electronic and hybrid projects. The kids? Hardcore is getting bigger and that emo shit is making a comeback; it seems as if no one cares about bobbing and being thin and aloof and all that. I know, it seems weird: I didn’t believe it at first. Maybe it was just denial, or my having been abroad. But indie rock is dead. Completely. Its corpse is rotting, and there is no chance for a comeback.

Once the reigning poster boy for indie rock, Lou Barlow and his band Sebadoh were on top of the world a few short years ago. Sebadoh’s Bakesale was Sub Pop’s second best selling record of all time (behind Nirvana’s Bleach); the group’s other classic albums, among them Bubble and Scrape, Smash Your Head on the Punk Rock, III were considered modern classics and all time rock and roll greats by critics and indie heads alike. True, the songs were all about playing rock and roll, and confronting what Barlow (and every indie rock boy) struggled with (and every indie rock girl loved to hear about): futile relationships, masturbation, incessant drug use. This is what made the songs work. Often, all three topics would find their way into one song.

Sebadoh started when Barlow was kicked out of the fledgling Dinosaur Jr. by high school friend J. Mascis. Mascis told Barlow that the band was breaking up, and a few weeks later, Barlow read in the papers about the band getting a recording contract. That, unsurprisingly, was the end of that friendship.

Flash forward a few years: after dozens of releases, Sebadoh signs to a major, starts drumming with someone else, and longtime drummer Bob Fay learns of the new album by reading it in the papers, too. This happens not too long after Lou gets married, moves to LA, and cleans up his act. Funny how things turn around.

Considering the fact that most of Sebadoh’s inspiration came from Barlow’s unrequited spite towards J. Mascis, futile relationships, masturbation, and drugs, is it any wonder that the newest release The Sebadoh is devoid of any redeeming qualities? Barlow, it seems, now has nothing to sing about. Over the last few years, he basically turned into his worst enemy: he got married (meaning sex), moved to LA, and doesn’t smoke as much as he used to. Perhaps he’s happier. Congratulations, Lou, but your music is terrible now.

The Sebadoh is by far the worst collection of songs to try to pass for indie rock in the last few years. Barlow’s talent and inspiration is gone. Jason Lowenstein, the other songwriting member in the band, tries to make up where Barlow fails, struggling to fill a seemingly bottomless pit. No comments on new drummer Russ Pollard.

The songs are, in a word, bad. Very bad. Not much thought seems to be put into them, and they are actually hard to listen to (instrumentally). Lyrically, the songs lack the passion and intimacy they once had. What takes the place of the old intelligence is often inexplicable. While its nice to know that they are anti-racist, you have to question why a bunch of middle class white suburbanites are singing "black and white / why cant we be friends" on "Colorblind." If they ever play their classic "Just Gimme Indie Rock" again, you should question why – so they can turn it over and fuck its rotting corpse? Again?

The only listenable song on the album is "Sorry," a remake of a Barlow solo acoustic song (for his now-wife’s record/fanzine) from 1994, which is littered with overproduction and badly arranged parts. The original was far better, and I suggest everyone try to track it down.

Look, I still like Sebadoh (at least the older material), and Barlow still has what is probably the most sincere voice in all of music. Jason Lowenstein can write some really great songs ("Princess," for example, from harmacy), and Bob Fay was a great drummer (not just in Sebadoh, but also the now defunct Deluxx Folk Implosion, which was a combination between Fay’s Deluxx and Barlow’s Folk Implosion). This new guy is virtually undetectable. Whatever it was that made Sebadoh Sebadoh is equally hard to track down in this mess of an album.

The Sebadoh of today just isn’t the same, and that’s too bad, because they used to be good. Things, many things, have changed, though. Sebadoh was once the standard bearer for a whole genre, and now that genre, indie rock, is dead. And its corpse is rotting in Barlow’s closet.