By Joan Anderman
The Boston Globe
Among the wild-card reunions that have littered the rock music landscape in recent years, the re-emergence of the original Dinosaur Jr. lineup ranks right up there with Pink Floyd in the category of feuding musicians least likely to stand on a stage together.

The proto-alt-rock trio formed in Amherst, Mass., in 1983 by guitarist J Mascis, bassist Lou Barlow and drummer Emmett "Murph" Murphy delivered an abusive fusion of noise, melody, and whining at crushing volumes for six years.

Dinosaur Jr.’s influence far outlasted the band itself, which was even more explosive offstage than on. In 1989, Mascis kicked Barlow out of the band. For the next 15 years Barlow maintained a very public Mascis-bashing campaign. Murph, who briefly joined the Lemonheads in the mid-’90s, relocated to the middle of nowhere and cut ties with everyone.

"He was a sadist," Barlow says of Mascis. "He tortured me."
"Lou was growing up or something," Mascis says of Barlow. "It was hard to deal with."

"They were so bad, and I was always the fall guy, always the mediator," Murph recalls. "There was lots of weirdness."

Notoriously remote, Mascis speaks haltingly if at all. He’s completely stumped by an inquiry into his well-being and explains the incentive to put the band back together this way: "I just like playing loud."

Dinosaur Jr., which will play loud at the Vogue Tuesday, was in large part a vehicle for Mascis’ songwriting and guitar sludge. After Barlow’s departure, Mascis made two more Dinosaur Jr. albums with Murph and what amounted to four solo albums under the band name, the last in 1997.

Barlow took a different direction after the break with Mascis, helping to pioneer the lo-fi pop movement with his bands Sebadoh and Folk Implosion. Barlow ventured into the film world, reaching the Top 30 of the pop singles chart with the song "Natural One" from the 1995 movie "Kids."

Unlike Mascis, Barlow is equally enthusiastic about analyzing the past, the music, and the unlikely scenario he finds himself in now.
"I basically worshiped J," Barlow says. "Personally and creatively he was such a mentor, and to be rejected by him was crushing. At the same time being kicked out of that band was a great thing for me. Had I stayed, I doubt I would’ve been able to find my own voice."
The retail peg for the Dinosaur Jr. reunion is a reissue of the band’s first three albums, "Dinosaur," "You’re Living All Over Me," and "Bug," out on the Merge label.

"My mother really bridged this," Barlow says. "She said, ‘It’d be so nice if you could play as Dinosaur.’ She kept guilting me. She kept telling me J had changed, and she had started to like him. She also knows how much pain that experience caused me, and everyone knows that if you’re able in your life to revisit a painful time and somehow make amends, it’ll make you a happier person."