Lee Ranaldo and the Dust - Last Night On Earth

As heartbreaking as Kim Gordon and Thurston Moore’s divorce was/is, the real shame is with the uncertainty of where all of the domestic drama leaves Sonic Youth. You can only assume that the band’s infinite hiatus is permanent, save for the occasional reunion offer-which has got to be harder than just a couple of dudes quibbling over royalties or how drunk C.C. was during an awards show performance.

Not only that, but two of Sonic Youth’s members are far too good to simply let their talents squander because Thurston can’t keep his cock in his pants. So while the rest of the world were morning the dissolution of indie rock’s king and queen, I was more upset at the notion that S.Y.’s guitarist Lee Ranaldo and the band’s criminally overlooked drummer Steve Shelley were without work for the first time in decades.

Thankfully, Ranaldo had already proven his role as a fully capable singer and songwriter for the band, so it wasn’t too much of a stretch to patiently wait for his next move. The better news is that his new career as a solo artist also incorporates Shelly on drums, making the grand opening moniker of “Lee Ranaldo and the Dust” essentially one-half of the band that is now part of the divorce decree of Kim and Thurston.

The easy verdict is how the debut Last Night On Earth will appeal to nearly everyone who appreciated Lee’s songs on Sonic Youth records, with the possible exception being those who won’t be receptive to Ranaldo’s more mainstream tendencies and penchant for noodling.

Because Last Night On Earth is an effort with a clear attempt at being less an art rock record than one designed to simply rock, with a natural focus on Lee’s guitar work. There are just as many acoustic flourishes as there are feedback squalls. There are straight-forward verse-chorus-verse structures throughout out and plenty of intriguing solos who want to examine his guitar prowess and studies of tone.

There are moments where you’d swear Ranaldo was a member of Built To Spill rather than the dissonant explorations of Sonic Youth, but as a fan of each, I can find very little to fault in that assessment. Each listen of Last Night On Earth is as rewarding as the last one, which makes Ranaldo’s first effort out of the gate-thirty years after the fact, no less-a positive development in an otherwise dismal dissolution.

“Everyone falls apart in the end” he sings on “Ambulancer,” but Last Night On Earth shows how Ranaldo has picked up and moved on to better days.

Kim And Thurston Break Up!

There is a good article over at Spin.com, or at least as good as it gets when you read the news that Kim and Thurston are breaking up.

Ok, technically they’ve separated, but isn’t that always the precursor to the more-popular act of divorce, in this case the ubiquitous alterna-couple that have become the shining example for everyone else that cool people can still find each other, marry, have cool kids and live in a bizarre Ward and June Cleaver world of hipster middle age.

Serious, they were role models that made such an antiquated act seem kinda cool, an adjective for any example of a cool couple that weds.

They always seemed like two, strong-willed people who made room for each other both out of respect and out of a deeper connection (i.e. love). What a bummer if that wasn’t a little bit true, and what a bigger bummer if we’ve seen the end of Kim and Thurston as it related to a singular concept: a husband/wife team that-for at least seventeen years-was the epitome of being a role model for marriage.

And now that distinction falls on Iowa’s own Dave and Barb from House of Large Sizes.

Glenn Branca Tortures Guitar

The only way that I can sufficiently redeem myself from posting a Glass Tiger video is to prove my mettle by posting a Glenn Branca video.
Branca is the man responsible for steering Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore and Lee Renaldo down the path of alternate tunings. Look closely at the solo, and you’ll notice how the two picked up on his guitar gestations too.
Watching this black and white video of a solo from 1978 makes me smile.
I don’t expect you to smile with me. Hell, I don’t expect you to “get” it. This is primordial noise that would take years to harness before a wider audience could understand it.
That is, if you consider Sonic Youth’s fan base a “wider audience.”
In fact, the best way to better understand Glenn Branca’s guitar noise is to quote directly from one of the YouTube comments. It’s one that isn’t very flattering to Branca, but it and a response to it fit perfectly.
• max300988 Whats the point of this? Anyone can play like that, even a person, who never held a guitar in his hands. This is just noise, and nothing more.
• maneatingorchids @max300988 Exactly... beautifully worded.

Sonic Youth - The Eternal

There was a time when I would buy Sonic Youth albums without even hearing a note. For me, they were a band that deserved this kind of positive reinforcement, an epitome of how bands with major label should act, progress, and influence.
A pair of albums-A Thousand Leaves and NYC Ghosts & Flowers- abruptly ended that blind adulation. It seemed that one of my favorite bands had simply run their course and run out of ideas in the process. They had become pretentious and boring, oblivious to the fact that rock music should contain a bit of humor, or at least a wink towards it. Sonic Youth appeared to have grown up, no longer deserving their ageless band name.
Around this time I purchased Murray Street only out of Trade Center guilt and I skipped Sonic Nurse altogether.
I got a chance to see them in Ohio during the Rather Ripped tour-twenty years after I’d first seen them in a small club in Iowa supporting Sister tour-and was pleasantly surprised. Lee assaulted his guitar, Thurston dry humped his amp stack, and Kim jumped around like she was honestly overtaken by the amplified onslaught. And Steve Shelly? As usual, he was his awesome dependable self, keeping all of the chaos neatly contained in measured rhythms.
The album they were promoting-Rather Ripped-was a high energy affair, complete with efficient song structures and what appeared to be an attempt to win back fans that had fallen by the wayside, like me.
Sonic Youth’s latest, The Eternal, is curiously being promoted as the band’s first independent release in years (like that accounts for anything in this day and age and, to be honest, I never really considered Matador to be an “indie” label to begin with) when it should be promoted as their best work since Washing Machine.
They’re continuing with Ripped’s fast-tempo tendencies and they’re expertly tiptoeing between streamlined guitar rock and their groundbreaking experimentation. It’s an album that manages to straddle a variety of different elements from their past while sounding amazingly fresh. An impressive feat for a band that’s approaching their thirtieth anniversary.
The obvious attraction is the guitar interplay between Thurston Moore and Lee Ranaldo. They’ve proven to be ample warriors within the alterna-tuning freakouts and have even poked around some areas that could be fodder for jam-band fans. But The Eternal finds the pair consolidating their interplay into short, sweet bursts. Their performances are deceiving-one has to listen closely for their complexity-but when they do go off on extended tangents (“Anti-Orgasm” the wonderful “Antenna” and the closer “Massage The History”) it makes the impact that much stronger. The two are so good that they even make a mundane Kim Gordon track, “Malibu Gas Station,” into a track that you don’t dare skip.
Because many of the complexities are brief, efficient and expertly positioned, you can expect The Eternal to grow a bit after a few listens. Trust me, this review looked a bit different after the first spin. But now after double-digit listens, it’s now apparent that I’m enjoying a new Sonic Youth album more than I have in years. More importantly, The Eternal has me looking forward to the next few Sonic Youth albums before they’ve even been contemplated.
Seems like old times.

This review originally appeared in Glorious Noise.

Sonic Youth - Master-Dik

There was a time, probably up until Washing Machine, when I would have bought any amount of shit that Sonic Youth threw at me.
Made In U.S.A. soundtrack?
Got it.
“Dirty Boots” CD5?
Mm hmm.
It wasn’t until that Godawful NYC Ghosts & Flowers came out until I realized that, not only were Sonic Youth fallible, they could also release some utter garbage.
I contend that the 1988 e.p. Master-Dik is the first foray into filler, and to go a bit further, the first attempt by a notoriously cool band to make a run at taking the cash of their fans.
Argue all you want, and I would have stood by you with your arguments some twenty years ago. Back then, I regularly incorporated some of the many sound collages on to mixtapes, seemingly considering that their inclusion brought some high art to the compilation.
The reality is, Master-Dik contains a weaker remix of “Master Dik,” a by-the-numbers reading of “Beat On The Brat,” and about twenty minutes of rehearsal footage, inside jokes, noodling, and other unnecessary nonsense.
Originally released in 1988, about the same time that Sonic Youth jumped ship from SST to Blast First, it could easily be attributed as a last-ditch cash-grab by the stoners at SST before one of their money makers went to a larger indie.
But here it is, twenty years later, and Sonic Youth are re-releasing Master-Dik in an attempt at getting some of that cash for themselves. There is no reason why this e.p. couldn’t have been made available for free, as it essentially is a bunch of sonic trash dressed up to look like something important.

For shits and giggles, here’s my take on Master-Dik from several years ago when I was much more appreciative of it:

A fine stop gap with some hilarious liner notes. Also dig the Big Black sticker that came with the initial pressings warning us that this e.p. wasn't "as good as Atomizer...So don't get your hopes up Cheese." Probably the most requested S.Y. effort that I used to tape for people who'd ask: "Can you make me a copy of that Sonic Youth song where they call Gene Simmons an ugly motherfucker?" The stage intros for non-existent jazz players like George Benson is a laugh too. My hopes aren't up. It's not as good as Atomizer. I like cheese. And I like this effort as an ego deflator which was starting to happen when Kim started to put sparkling stars on her jeans during this time. I'm not making that up either. She was wearing them when she got hit in the mouth with the microphone.

Thurston Moore - Trees Outside The Academy

For a dude who’s been jamming shit in between the strings and pickups of electric guitars and then testing the results under ear-damaging amplification, you’d think that you’d be able to blueprint what a Thurston Moore solo record is going to sound like before you sit down with it. So imagine how unsettling it is on that initial spin of Moore’s second “proper” solo effort when the first instrument you hear is the long drone of a violin.
Seconds after, the other musical consistent enters: an acoustic guitar. Now, I know that may frighten some and I understand why. After all, there’s about a million other organic offerings out there that merely use the gimmick to try and cover up every half-baked idea still “in development.” Moreover, who wants to hear a solo album comprised of material that isn’t ready for making the leap from bedroom rehearsal to the Sonic Youth rehearsal space?
Thankfully and impressively, Thurston Moore’s Trees Outside The Academy doesn’t sound like leftovers, also-rans, or not-quite-there’s. The hollowbody feel is both conversational and full of purpose; these aren’t final run-throughs before Moore feeds it through a Marshall and brands it with a Sonic Life stencil. Instead, it’s a well-intended document that feels complete even in this unadorned state.
Moore’s understated delivery (he seldom works up from a “just woke up” stance) gives the album a personal feel even when he’s not divulging a damn thing. So aside from the acoustic guitar, there is very little here that hints at why this would all qualify as “solo” material. But whatever: I dig the light and airy feel of this album to the point where I’ve reached for it on more than a few occasions.
There are moments of lively electric current, but they feel appropriately placed and well intended. While his first solo effort, Psychic Hearts, came during a period of personal growth (literally), Trees Outside The Academy seems constructed of an urge to let us in on an incubatory creative spark during a downtime in S.Y.’s schedule. And speaking of: Academy stacks up against some of S.Y.’s most recognized efforts and it continues with the band’s more recent critical upswings.

This review original appeared in Glorious Noise

Kuyahoga Music Festival-Live Review

Kuyahoga Music Festival
Hold Steady
Sonic Youth
Death Cab For Cutie
Flaming Lips
Cuyahoga Falls, OH
8/3/2006

With so many festivals this year (Lollapalooza, Pitchfork, Bonnaroo, etc.), it’s easy to overlook a few. So you’re forgiven if you’ve heard of “Intonation” before “Kuyahoga (sic) Music Festival.” I’d never heard of it either. All I knew is that I was faced with choosing between a “reunited” Germs concert and Billy Idol (with Gary Numan opening, I would have been more excited to see him, actually) during a visit to Cleveland. The trouble was: a Germs “reunion” is kind of hard considering the state of Darby Crash these days, and Billy Idol cried “More! More! More” with his $55 ticket price. So I got my own whiplash smile when I noticed, literally a few days before I left for Ohio, that a concert featuring Death Cab For Cutie, Sonic Youth and The Flaming Lips would be in effect during my stay. And from what I could tell, there were tickets available, unlike most festivals that I had heard about.
So what of this Kuyahoga Music Festival? I’m not really sure and I think the promoters are still trying to figure out an identity other than “we’ll have three stages, some beer, and a few vendor booths (including one for the Marines) around this amphitheatre in central Ohio.” That’s fine, actually, because the Blossom Music Center is a fine location with excellent acoustics in the pavilion area and plenty of “cheap seats” lawn area to stretch out on whenever your favorite jam bands decide to pass through. No sir, I came for two things: Sonic Youth and The Flaming Lips, two bands that I had seen before and had no hesitation about seeing again.
Let me show my age by saying that Ohio was unbearably hot for much of the time I was there and on the day of the show the heat gave way to showers which meant that there was no way I would be dragging my ass around to see a few second stage acts. The rain and 45 degree angle incline saw to it that I found my reserved seating in front of the main stage (the show was nicely attended, but far from sold out) and stayed there for the duration. I’m sure the acts on the other stages were just fine, and I probably would have seen a few of them in more suitable conditions, but remember kids; you’ll get to be middle aged too someday.
The Hold Steady. Well, we arrived later than expected and we missed them. I’m actually kind of bummed about that.
Sonic Youth. Here we go! It’d been nearly twenty years since I saw them last and I’m happy to report that both Kim and Thurston look about the same as when I saw them last. What’s funny is that twenty years ago, I remember thinking “Man, Kim looks really old.” And now my reaction was “Wow, Kim looks really good!” Whereas before she looked really pissed off to be playing in another shitty punk club (ah, Gabes!), tonight she looked happy to be playing an outdoor music festival sponsored by 92.3 K-Rock. She jumped around and danced, which may explain S.Y.’s decision to have a touring bassist. I have no idea who he was but I am positive that he wasn’t Jim O’Rourke, which means the dude was pretty cool in my book.
Lots of material from “Rather Ripped” which is fine, because that album totally rules. What’s changed in the past twenty years is that S.Y.’s punk roots were very apparent then, but they’ve changed into an almost alternative tuning jam-band, which is fine, because jam bands totally rule.
Now, before I lead you to believe that they played “I Know You Rider” or “Dark Star,” there were several moments of distorted bliss and, indeed, by the time they were into their third or fourth song in the set, Thurston found himself falling into the crowd, with guitar in tow, while a gray-haired Lee Renaldo performed six-stringed exorcisms on stage.
Steve Shelly remains as one of the most understated and competent drummers working in rock today. It would be so easy for a band like Sonic Youth to have a heavy-handed drummer, but they made a brilliant choice with Shelly’s propelling rhythms. They’re subtle, effective, and criminally overlooked.
They played “Schizophrenia,” just like they did twenty years ago. And I smiled again, just like when I was 21.
Death Cab For Cutie were up next, and I was fairly underwhelmed about seeing them a second time this year. The ladies, as usual, did not share my lack of enthusiasm, and they danced to “When Soul Meets Body” and all of the other “hits” in the D.C.F.C. arsenal. Admittedly, I may be a little bit harsh on the fellas, but admittedly, their set hasn’t changed that much in the past five months. A few things deleted, a few things added, all performed like a good major label artist would.
Then, a surprise.
Wayne Coyne stepped on stage and performed a song with the band that had been running through my head the entire day: a note-for-note cover of R.E.M.’s “Cuyahoga.” I gave in a sang with the remaining Death Cab set along with the thousands of young ladies in attendance.

Which leads us to the band that I’ve been particularly harsh with as of late: The Flaming Lips. Oh sure, I think “At War With The Mystics” is a fine album and I would encourage each and every one of you to witness a Flaming Lips show at some point in your life. For me, the crux of the problem remains that I have seen them more than any other band in my life and I was growing tired of the band’s lack of spontaneity. It’s been a few years and a few lifetimes since I’d seen them last and I was in need of another Lips experience to bring me up. They delivered in spades. I’m sure the set didn’t deviate much from the last stop, but then, I’m not on a mission to follow them like I was during “The Soft Bulletin” or “Yoshimi.” I’m content with this one stop until the next album hits and I think that’s the key. Sure, there was the obligatory “Race For The Prize” and “She Don’t Use Jelly” and a lot of the same stage tomfoolery was used. But given the current state of the world and dismal outlook of some performers, it was a joy to see others experience the spectacle firsthand, including the special lady friend.
There was a heavy anti-war element present, but not to the point of self-righteousness. Wayne delivered sermons that, paraphrasing here, simply asked people to put the drama of their lives and the world at the gate, and focus on transcending the issues they arrived with through music. It’s a simple message and in the hands of a cynical person, could be seen as a tad hokey. But Wayne Coyne is far from hokey; he has a tremendous work ethic and a very admirable outlook on life: this is all we have, so let’s make the most of it for the next 90 minutes. And for 90 minutes, Santa danced, confetti fell, people danced, and faces smiled.
The spontaneity factor was addressed at the first an only encore, a stunning rendition of Sabbath’s “War Pigs” delivered true to the roots and close to the bone as static images of Bush-Cheney-Rumsfeld were projected on the screen. I wondered how the boys in the Marine information booth were handling such an obvious rejection of their profession.
The contemplative moment was cut short with the reality that, because this was a festival, we had to make the obligatory trek to search for the rental car that, from what we last remembered, was parked on grass somewhere well outside of the amphitheater. As we walked, refrains of “War Pigs” were heard from the walking, along with updated lyrics to “Do You Realize?” (‘do you realize, that we can’t find the car”). It struck me that the Kuyahoga Music Festival may not have been the first on the minds of rock fans this summer, but for those that attended, it was one of the best ways to end the season.