Daily Listen by Brian Brock

Sonic Youth - The Eternal

Sonic Youth throws another one on the pile.

Scenario: a band can consistently create really good albums in the vein of this one, Murray Street or A Thousand Leaves, or for that matter, EVOL, Sister, and Washing Machine.

Question: do they have a duty (to themselves, to God, to me) to do anything else?  Should they risk it all on a colossal mistake?

Consider The Whitey Album, from “Ciccone Youth,” the stunted Madonna-wallowing alternative path they took in 85 or so.  It is huge fun to listen to.  Thurston Moore’s folk-rocky solo album Trees Outside the Academy, featuring Steve Shelley, was a great follow up to Rather Ripped, which itself was a revelation that SY could successfully drop the distorted tone-clusters, edited freakout jams, and sucker-punch vocals in favor of beauty, structure, and really excellent singing from the usually murky Kim Gordon.

Is it dictated by the popular music market?  Look at Beck, whose innate appeal to frat boys and hippies (to the extent there’s a difference anymore) means his core audience is much larger.  He took pretty much the opposite approach, creating a unique sound-world for each of his albums, at least up until Guero.  Even if this was an artistically worthy choice, with Odelay and “Loser” looming in his discography, every move he made was considered not on its own but in terms of what that crazy Beck was going to do next.  Since Guero, he has relied more or less on his old formula.

Why can’t Sonic Youth do something like Trees Outside the Academy? More to the point, why don’t they make something that will really clean clocks and take out the trash?  They may be unable as a group to cooperate in any other endeavor.  Perhaps it’s a business choice, to create a consistent brand.  Maybe they are imitating modern artists who make an endless string of “Untitled #” paintings, all the same sampling of colors and shapes.

Tied with Bill Callahan’s Sometimes I Wish We Were An Eagle for best sounding record of 2009.

Talk Talk - Laughing Stock

The entrance of a voice can instantly locate any piece of music, whatever its inherent character, in a space wholly determined by the character of the voice.  The music practically becomes an afterthought.

Compare Talk Talk to Gastr Del Sol.  It would take a little convincing, but if Laughing Stock featured David Grubbs on vocals it could pass as a post Camofleur GDS album.  “New Grass” sounds like Tortoise mixed with Oval;  the way “Myrrhman” sits loosely in its music, Grubbs could start sing-talking at any moment.

The second Mark Hollis opens his mouth, Talk Talk becomes a band of the 80’s, a new wave, glam-rock, pop-music creature which just happens to have wandered into a hostile environment.

The music becomes very much like what I occasionally try to imagine Cher makes when she’s out of the spotlight, kicking back with her free jazz quartet.  Of course you can see why a band like U2 avoids taking this direction in public.  Talk Talk made this wildly mutated, beautiful chimera, but of course they sacrificed their reputation among casual listeners.