J Mascis - Ruby Lounge, Manchester 10/01/15

Despite enjoying the prestige of being released on Sub Pop, though, you can’t help but sense that there’s a real danger of Mascis’ excellent recent solo albums slipping through the net; tonight’s show is a sell-out, but the consistent chattiness of the crowd suggests that casual Dinosaur Jr. fans make up the majority of the throng. That presents Mascis with a little bit of an early challenge, with “Listen to Me” and “Me Again” - intricate, acoustic pieces - meeting with a reaction that borders on disinterest. It’s not until he then drops Jr. favourite “Little Fury Things”, complete with washed-out, distorted guitar, that he really commands the audience’s attention; that he clearly feels a straight-up acoustic set would be an artistic impossibility is a positive thing, allowing him to include classic Jr. cuts in reinterpreted, but still recognisable, form.

Those unfamiliar with Mascis’ solo releases might be surprised to find that the likes of “Every Morning” and “Drifter” don’t fit with the general preconception that he’s been specialising in woozy, blissed-out acoustic fare; the former is capped with a glorious electric solo, whilst the latter’s rolling riffery almost taps into Americana. A searing Jr. double bill of “Not the Same” and “Out There” meets with the evening’s most fervent reception, but it’s his gorgeous rendition of Mazzy Star’s “Fade into You” that provides the set highlight; it’s meatier than the original, of course, but with the aching sense of vulnerability perfectly preserved.

Mascis is famed for his impenetrability in interviews and his perennially detached air on stage; Jr. diehards, of course, would rush to tell you that this is all part of his charm, but tonight he seems almost aggressively aloof. There’s barely a word spoken to the crowd throughout - perhaps a quick murmur of thanks at the very close - and he chooses to play seated when, in a venue as trickily laid-out as tonight’s, it’s likely to afford only those closest to the front any kind of decent view of the man himself. That’s all well and good, of course, but the setlist doesn’t seem to reflect such a disconnect between Mascis and the fans; there’s plenty of Dinosaur Jr., with “Not You Again” and “Alone” closing the main set. The eagerness to crowd-please that those choices represent suggest that he's by no means out of touch with those in attendance, and that his stilted intercations with the audience aren't simply a stage gimmick - they're quite genuine.

By closing with the group’s now-classic cover of The Cure’s “Just Like Heaven”, he confirms his appetite for awkwardness; it ends, as on record, in abrupt fashion just short of the three-minute mark. He's gone seconds later, with a grunt of farewell, and it’s weirdly reassuring to know that whether he’s troubling eardrums with Lou Barlow and Murph or delivering delicate renditions of carefully-weaved indie folk, he’s still the same J Mascis.