he fact that Sebadoh broke up sucks, but the way they did it was even worse. Their final record The Sebadoh was their worst for Sub Pop, and when their split was final, there was little feeling of a satisfying closure. Now that Lou Barlow is off gallivanting as The Folk Implosion (on his own, without John Davis, might I add) and his many other side projects, it’s nice to know that Jason Loewenstein, the underrated other of Sebadoh, is able to fly under the radar and release a solo record so easily.

He was never the sensitive side of Sebadoh, and even when he was trying to be, he seemed like he had a chip on his shoulder. While Lou was off being silly and soft, Jason always had the punk edge to him. On At Sixes And Sevens, the bite is still there, and you can tell that he is out to prove that he was an integral part of his old band, seeing as he wrote, produced, and performed every instrument on it. Yes, the DIY ethic is still very much alive and kicking.

The fact that his bio is named “J-Loe” shows that he has a sense of humor that is intact, and the way he effortlessly flows from song to song, proves he felt little pressure making this record. The opener, “Codes”, sounds almost too hip to be included. Embracing the garage punk that has swept the nations as of lately, the song grooves in a way that would make The Hives cream their tight black slacks. From there, things get a little more familiar, showcasing Loewenstein’s fancy guitar picking on “Casserole” and “Circles”. There’s even some rare moments of silliness, with the aptly titled “Metal” instrumentally crunching its way through riff after riff, or “More Drugs”, which sounds so damn sobering that it’s so damn easy to laugh at. “I’m A Shit”, the masterpiece of the album, shows just how much the latest Pedro The Lion offering sounds like Sebadoh.

Though you really can’t forget any of the work he’s done in the past decade or so with his former band, Jason Loewenstein has really pulled off a gem of a record that momentarily loses you in his own music. Being a solo artist may not reap the benefits or attention he once saw, but he can be happy that he is still writing great songs, and when that one idiot yells out “Gimme Indie Rock!” at a show he can politely smile and give that person exactly what he wants.