By Jesse Cataldo

It’s nearly impossible to use the description “jam band” without evoking the silly “grooviness” that clings to post Grateful Dead groups (Phish, O.A.R., etc.) like the stench of stale weed on a flannel shirt. On their first album, a live set recorded in late 2004, Magnolia Electric Co. singer Jason Molina (formerly of Songs:Ohia) manages to make this rare distinction. His flannel is stained with dried blood, draft beer and motor oil, not dried buds and brownie crumbs.

The “jam” element comes from the sometimes excessive length of the songs on Trials and Errors-the shortest of which is five minutes and fifty seconds-and the band’s tendency to fill those songs with long sections of guitar “noodling.” This is less showy finger acrobatics than it is an appropriate atmospheric touch, which means for these purposes, it is justified. Still, jam band just sounds dirty, so no more of that.

Molina is a master of calling up a quiet Midwestern desperation, drawing his eyes above the down and out to those stuck in perpetual ruts of semi-darkness. His characters aren’t losers or deadbeats; in fact, they’re far less exceptional. His lyrics drip with the plain honesty of long days at dead-end jobs and even longer nights at dreary bars. Equally important is the ethereal quality of his voice, which manages to be both noble and lonely at the same time. On his earlier albums with Songs:Ohia, he paired it with a piercing guitar twang, echoing silent pain off the deadness of the country’s wide-open spaces. Trials and Errors takes the opposite approach, piling on guitar, bass and drums. The effect, however, is the same-instead of his voice carrying out to no one on a transistor radio, it’s buried under an avalanche of guitar noise.

Molina has long been noted for trailing in Neil Young’s wide wake, a comparison that was usually more of a compliment than a criticism. On Trials and Errors, he lays his influences out on the table, with a not-so-subtle tribute to Young cut out of ribbons of cassette tape and tied to the end of “The Big Beast.” Still, we don’t exactly need to hear Molina quote half of Harvest to see the inherent similarities between the two artists. The wailing guitars, nasally vocals and submerged political conscience, all trademarks of Young’s sound, all appear in bountiful amounts throughout Molina’s back catalog.