SOUL ASYLUM

Poor little Soul Asylum. 

Would you believe they were once hip?  Big time?
Back in `87, I picked up a Village Voice issue with a big story on the band, proclaiming them peers of Husker Du and The Replacements - the two bands I was most excited about at the time - comparing them to The Who at their peak, and naming them the best live band in America.  After reading the piece, I couldn't wait to hear them, and I snagged up a copy of While You Were Out on my next record binge.

I wasn't entirely sure what to make of it.  There were some pretty great songs - "No Man's Land", "Freaks", "Closer To The Stars" - a kind of fusion of Husker's cosmic hardcore rush and the Mats' barroom blitz.  But some tracks just kinda roared away without direction, or sounded too metallic.  "Passing Sad Daydream", the closer, was a kind of woozy meandering country-rock bar ballad with an explosive chorus that ended in a welter of guitar noise.  Robert Christgau described them: "Fast turmoil rools, with hints of metal anthem and country warmth sunk deep enough in the mix that nobody'll cry corny."  Close enough.  I was interested, but not knocked out the way I had been by their brother bands.

Back then I was working at a bookstore with several like-minded musos around, and one mate of mine was heavily into Soul Asylum.  That led to my picking up Made To Be Broken about a year later.  I found I liked Made a little bit more, despite flat production courtesy of Bob Mould (shame on you, Bob!). The first half was great - "Tied To The Tracks," "Can't Go Back," the title track and the glorious folk-country-punk of "Never Really Been," plus the noisefest "Whoa!".  Unfortunately after that it broke down into sort of aimless metallic riffing.  SA seemed to have trouble sustaining their good ideas across a whole album.  Too bad, cause their good ideas were pretty damn great.  That same mate laid a copy of their Time's Incinerator on me later that year - a collection of pisstakes.  Again, some were pretty inspired, some of it wasn't.

Still, interest remained, and when I saw Hang Time in the racks, I bought it.  I remember this well, cuz I was working that night and I showed up at the store with it.  My SA-fan friend couldn't wait to hear it, so as soon as the doors were locked, we slapped it on the store's stereo.

Oh hell yeah!  From the first crunching chords of "Down On Up To Me" it was one solid ride.  Lenny Kaye and Ed Stasium had cleaned up the sound, giving if definition and solid bottom without losing any of its grit.  More importantly, either producers had iposed or band had finally learned some discipline, because Hang Time was one killer after another.  Dave Pirner's wraparound lyrics never sounded better, and even the throwaways had something to recommend them.  It all ended with a complete frenzy called "Heavy Rotation."


That October, they played local hole The Oasis, and aforemention mate and I were in the front row.  They played one of the best sets I'd ever seen, better than any I ever saw from the Mats or HD (both of whom were estimable live bands).  They blasted through pretty much all of Hang Time and pretty much all the best stuff from their other albums, not to mention treating us to "Pumpin' For Jill", an absolutely ass-kicking "Two Tickets To Paradise" (kicking off the show) and "Amazing Grace", sung with their guitars held on their heads while the amps screamed feedback.  Awesome.

After that they seemed to vanish for awhile.  By 1990 the whole American scene was dying off (the Huskers were dead and buried and the Mats would soon follow them), and my whole life had turned upside down (job, girl, friends).  And The Horse They Rode In On appeared like magic in the racks one day and of course, I had to have it.  At least these guys were still around.

I've heard over the years that Horse is most people's least-favorite.  Odd cause I thought/think it was pretty damn great, a more-than-worthy followup to Hang Time.  Me and the old mate caught them twice that year, once at the I-Beam in San Francisco and once at the Cactus Club in San Jose.  Both shows were outstanding.

Then it was off to oblivion again.  Next thing I heard was they'd been dumped by A&M (no sales), signed to Columbia (huh?) and were recording with Booker T - yes, that Booker T.

I got to see them preview the new album that fall at Slim's.  The new songs sounded great and Grave Dancer's Union was a nice gift late that year - a very good, very rocking album that carried on the ideas they'd been exploring since getting on the stick four years back.  Then things got very strange...

Grave Dancer's hit the Top 40.  Suddenly, Soul Asylum, of all their peers, had turned into The Band That Made It.  Now tons of people who'd never heard of them before were hearing "Runaway Train" in heavy rotation.  The next time I saw SA, it was at The Warfield, a 2,300 seat San Francisco theater - that's ten times the size of the crowds I was used to seeing them with.  The show was a good one, but something had changed - the shaggy looseness of those early gigs was giving way to ... professionalism.

Things got stranger.  Drummer Grant Young retired from the band and music.  They played the White House.  Dave Pirner started dating Winona Ryder.  And the critics who'd once championed them turned on Soul Asylum en masse.  Now the word was that they were an embarrassing pop/heartland group and that Pirner's songs were stupid.  Wow.  So far had the band's star fallen that people were incredulous when I would mention being a fan of Soul Asylum.  I mean, I was getting sneered at by folks who like Hootie and the Blowfish, fer crying out loud!!

It was three years before they were heard from again.  Let Your Dim Light Shine was a disappointment, a mix of by-rote Soul Asylum and offbeat attempts to branch out, none of which really came off.  But I did like the much maligned single, "Misery", which had a vaguely Kinks-ian feel to it.  Gen X'ers loathed the song with a passion - maybe because it struck too close to home.  I saw them again, this time at the Santa Cruz Civic.  Radiohead opened - they were terrible.  SA wasn't much better.  They'd dropped all but a couple of pre-Grave Dancer's songs from the set, and they seemed bored and tired.  Dave strapped on an acoustic and began a ballad that went "I wrote a song for you .... BLAH BLAH BLAH!! (explosive chorus as the band slammed into it behind him)(I'm not making this up, seriously).  Their one encore was a cover of "Sweet Jane." It was looking like the party was ending.  A few years later, Candy From A Stranger appeared in the racks, again without fanfare.  There wasn't a single memorable song on it.  Columbia soon divested themselves of the band.  

End of story.  Well not quite.  Dave cut a solo album (I came across it once at Borders, gave it a listen on their sample player.  Eh).  Dan Murphy played with Golden Smog a lot (interestingly, Golden Smog got better critical notices than Soul Asylum anymore).  Little more was heard.  Until Karl Mueller was diagnosed with throat cancer.  A benefit gig in Minneapolis drew Paul Westerberg out of retirement, and even got Bob Mould and Grant Hart to share a stage for one last time.

In `06, SA reappeared with a new album - The Silver Lining.  Karl played on the album but was gone by the time it was released.  SA did a free gig in Cesar Chavez Park.  For free?  Why not.  By now Michael Bland was on drums (are there any Minneapolis musicians he hasn't played with?), and Tommy Stinson hisself was playing bass.  The rhythm section definitely were goosing things along but Dave and Dan played with plenty of fire that night, and Tommy still exudes the rock`n'roll animal magnetism - if anything, even more than when he was younger.  It was a good show and I had a great time, even though only one pre-Grave Dancer's song appeared in the set, and the new songs off The Silver Lining didn't do it for me.  After the gig I made my way across the street to the Fairmont Hotel to take a leak, and who should be on his way out but Tommy.  I doffed my hat and bowed to him, and he responded with an "Aaaah, thank you!" in a tone that suggested it was, after all, only his due (not that he wasn't correct).

And after that it was back to oblivion.  Earlier this year, or late last year, SA released a new album, Delayed Reaction.  Based on the samples, it sounds okay, but not interesting enough to fork over for.  Tommy and Michael Bland are no longer playing with them, and recently Dan Murphy called it a day as well.  That leaves Dave Pirner the only original member left.  Apparently he plans to carry on.  So be it.  I don't see much sign that I'll be paying attention.

Soul Asylum is the rather sad example of a band that burned brightly for a while, then burned out.  But for those of us who saw them in their peak years, we know they were once something special.

Essential Listening

Almost all of their catalog is still in print and readily available.  Hang Time and And The Horse are the two albums I most strongly recommend, and both can be bought separately or as part of the three-disk Welcome To The Minority set, which also includes a host of worthwhile b-sides and outtakes.  Grave Dancer's Union is of course their big hit and also  readily available.  More highly recommended (by me) are the Twin/Tone albums - Say What You Will, Made To Be Broken and While You Were Out.  These albums are less consistent, but the highlights still represent the band at their best.  The albums are preferable to the Closer To The Stars collection, which simply misses too many highlights.  The cassette-only Time's Incinerator has some amusing rarities but is not essential.  It has never been on CD and is now pretty rare - will probably set you back $25 or so.   Anything after that may be worth it if you're into the band.  There's a live album (After The Flood) but frankly bootlegs of 80's shows are better.

Soul Asylum Wiki
Soul Asylum Allmusic
Soul Asylum.com
Enter the Soul Asylum

OPAL

In summer `88 I was looking for some buzz.  Some psychedelic buzz.  I've always been partial to summer-of-love-psychedelic rock, especially when the emphasis is on the "rock".  Think the Stones' "2000 Light Years From Home", or The Who's "Amazing Journey" and you get the idea.  

So, summer `88 and I'm looking at either Creem or Pulse, and some little piece on a band called Opal, the text box decorated with stark, black-and-white, sort of medieval/tarot card-like artwork depicting stars and meteors, it all catches my eye.  The description of the music sounds thrilling - crunchy psychedelic rock, a mix of T.Rex and early Pink Floyd, connections to The Dream Syndicate and Rain Parade (so, hip credentials solid) and the album's on SST - so it's bona fide.  When I came across the album a short time later over at Streetlight, I snagged it.

I bought a lot of albums based on coverage in music rags back then.  And most of them turned out to be just okay.  But Opal's Happy Nightmare Baby was everything that had been promised. Alan McGee in the Guardian called it "a mesmerising swirl of organs, wah-wah guitar and crunched-up T Rex basslines with the bored, narcoleptic vocals of Kendra Smith colouring the songs in."  I'd say that about nails it.  Echoing T. Rex, The Doors, early Floyd, The Velvets and god-knows-what else, Happy Nightmare Baby remains one of my favorite albums of the 80's and one that has aged incredibly well - not surprisingly, since it was out of step with any musical trend of the moment.  

I wish I could write a lot about Opal's story.  Someplace I have a Bucketfull Of Brains interview/article done shortly after Baby came out, but I'm too lazy to dig it up right now.  I don't recall it being that informative.  

So the band is shrouded in mystery.  David Roback (ex-Rain Parade) and Kendra Smith (ex-

Dream Syndicate) paired up (artistically and, it is said, romantically) and, with drummer Keith Mitchell, cut a handful of songs under the name Clay Allison. These came out on a 45 in `84 or `85.  The songs were spare and haunting, evocative of folks and blues and yet spacey and strange - folk and blues not from the Mississippi Delta, but from the planet Yuggoth.

Somewhere along the line the dropped the name "Clay Allison," dubbed themselves "Opal," and picked up extra musicians - Suki Ewers (who contributed the overpowering keyboards), William Cooper (also keys? violin?), Aaron Sherer and Paul Olguin (note - the musicians are not credited as to instruments on any of the bands records - just their names - I have no idea exactly what Cooper, Sherer or Olguin played.  Suki Ewers helpfully maintains Myspace and Facebook presence).  They recorded another EP, and then the full-length album.

Things get hazy after that.  In the midst of a European tour, Kendra Smith quit the band - whether she stormed offstage (as rumor has it)  mid-set or what I can't really say.  All I know is, she was out and her replacement, Hope Sandoval (allegedly at Smith's suggestion)  was in.  They finished off the tour, and worked on a second album to be called Ghost Highway.  it was never released.  Well, not exactly.

Instead the band, retaining largely the same membership (Roback, Sandoval, Ewers and Mitchell were all on board) renamed themselves Mazzy Star, and most of Ghost Highway (apparently) ended up on Mazzy Star's debut album, She Hangs Brightly.  It's not a bad album, though it doesn't have the majesty of Baby, alas.  But it makes for a decent followup. Mazzy went on to score some hits and became a surprise success before fading away at the end of the 90's.  In recent years Roback and Sandoval have done some sporadic solo work.  In 2012 Mazzy reunited (Ewers and Mitchell both on board) and did a tour.  An album is promised.  I can't comment much on Mazzy Star ... I've never listened past the first album.  I probably should.

In between Baby and Mazzy's debut, there was another Opal album, Early Recordings, which contained most of the two EP's and some unreleased tracks.  It's actually pretty great.  The sound is mostly sparer but no less haunting.  I'm a big fan of the acoustic "She's A Diamond" and "Hear the Wind Blow" and quite a few other tracks.  In 2006 a bootleg, Early Recordings Vol II began circulating.  These were less compelling recordings, but still of interest.

Essential Listening

The early singles/EP's are all collected on the two official Opal albums except for one song ("Freight Train"), which can be found on the bootleg.

Sadly, Opal's recorded output is all out of print.  Used copies of Happy Nightmare Baby  go for $35-$400 on Amazon  - bummer.  Early Recordings is also prized and will set you back $60-$80 if you're determined enough.  Both of these are excellent, but you may want to try other means, at least until someone wises up and reissues them.  Early Recordings Vol II is completely unofficial and questionably legal.  It's nowhere near as compelling as the other two, but if you're curious (obviously, I was) it's worth a listen.  Mazzy Star's She Hangs Brightly is readily available, as are the other two MZ albums.  A bootleg of Opal with Kendra performing at the I-Beam in 1987 circulates, but not recently.  It's not bad.

Opal Allmusic
Opal Wiki
Alan McGee's Guardian article on Rain Parade, Opal, et al.
Mazzy Star wiki
Mazzy Star Allmusic

GUADALCANAL DIARY

Jangle pop.  That cute li'l genre, full of Byrds-ian guitar strum and sensitive dreamy boy singers lamenting their lost/unattainable loves.  It was the perfect style for wimp kids who were scared off by hardcore frenzy or roots/punk fury.  Some nice records came out of it, but it didn't take long to notice that most of the bands sounded so much the same that they were practically interchangeable.

Now, if you wanted to ask - "but, couldn't you say the same thing about hardcore, about noise-rock, about pretty much every other subgenre of `indie' rock?" my answer would be a resounding HELL YES!  But "jangle" did have one thing going against it that the others didn't - it was cute.  It was wimpy.  Also not helping was its extremely limited range of influences - R.E.M., U2 ... and, um, other jangle bands who mostly sounded like R.E.M. and U2.  DON'T even bother bringing up The Byrds.  I don't buy that most of these outfits ever showed a Byrds influence other than a taste for folky melodies and 12-string Ricks.  I'm hard-pressed to think of too many outfits that really transcended this trend - one would be R.E.M. - who pretty much created it anyway, and the other would be Guadalcanal Diary.

Really, its unfair that they've been filed and forgotten as another Southern jangle band (GD came from Marietta, GA, which is something like 80 miles distance from Athens).  Its allowed them to largely be written off, which is decidedly unfair, because GD at their best were mighty fine.

Superficially, yes, there is a resemblance between the dense, ringing chords of many of their songs, and, admittedly, Murray Attaway's voice has a slight resemblance to Michael Stipe's - similar timbre and some of the same touch of twang you sometimes heard in Stipe's.  And there was a certain Southern gothic atmosphere which hung over both bands music (at least in the early days).  But GD was driven by the powerhouse drumming of John Poe, a drive the Athens crew never had, and Jeff Wall played real, classic lead guitar (something Buck studiously avoided), and Attaway could write better songs Berry/Buck/Mills/Stipe.

I grabbed the first album, Walking in the Shadow of the Big Man, in part cause I'd read a short, complimentary (though not ecstatic) review in Record (remember Record?  Great rag.  Wenner should never have killed it), in part cause I knew it was an American underground band (I yearned to hear every such band in those days), and in part cause it had a cool cover.  I'm surprised the reviews weren't more enthusiastic, because I fell hard for Walking, with its punchy songs, roots-influences, silly humor and the fact that it rocked lamf!  Poe's drums were enormous, Walls lead guitar sterling.  "Watusi Rodeo", the tale of a cowboy snatched up by a flying saucer and dropped off in Africa, wasn't jangle - it was pure psychobilly frenzy.  The other songs rode along with a kind of Marty Robbins-meets-William Faulkner ambience, full of ghosts and Civil War dead, and strange biblical imagery that evoked snake-handlers and country preachers and mystic, backwoods hoodoo Christianity.  There was a great, kind of update Everly Brothers rocker ("Pillow Talk") and it all ended with a transcendent live version of "Kumbayah" complete with enthusiastically screaming audience (since I dropped out of Sunday school at 5 and never went to camp or scouts, "Kumbayah" was unknown to me).

I think I got Jamboree about a year later.  I was a little disappointed.  Despite having a gorgeous cover painting, the band seemed to have lost their confidence.  Time has been kind to it and Jamboree sounds better to me now, but its still a mixed bag.  The best songs ("Pray for Rain",  "Michael Rockefeller", "Spirit Train", "Lonely Street"- another Everlys-esque gem) are of a piece with Walking (an earlier version of "Michael Rockefeller" had, in fact, been on a pre-Walking EP released in `83).  I'm guessing most or all of these had been in the repertoire all along and had missed the first album.  Side two got seriously weird as the band swerved into full-throttle rootsabilly "Country Club Gun", "Please Stop Me" (another gem - something of a rewrite of Leon Payne's"Psycho", "Dead Eyes", "Cattle Prod")  and the truly weird "I See Moe" (an ode to the mean Stooge) and "T.R.O.U.B.L.E." a Patsy Cline-ish ode to BDSM.  Mostly successful musically, but highly schizophrenic as an album. Not helping was flat production by Rodney Mills - the songs would have benefited from the odd, hazy production that marked album no. 1.

Seeing them live was a different story - GD were an amazing live band.  I first saw them at the cavernous One Step Beyond in Santa Clara - fall 1986.  OSB was a bit new at booking live shows then - it had started as a slightly pretentious dance club.  Despite is inadequate sound system, OSB was our club - big enough and with sufficient clout to host a lot of major bands as they came through Northern California.  Having a place like that was a gold mine in the 80's, and I'll always be grateful to OSB, shortcomings and all, just for being there and providing me with many memorable evenings.

Anyway, back then the place had a slightly unfinished feel - a big room with a stage and a sound system and blank gray, white walls.  The stage lights through towering, distorted shadows of the band up behind them, and that's always how I'll remember GD, with those looming shadows behind them as they played.  The haze of their album was back in force thanks to aforementioned sound system; they had undeniable charisma (of a goofy, lovable sort) and they had a wild sense of humor their records only hinted at (none of which, unfortunately, would translate in print).  They closed the show with a weird, ominous, droning take on "Johnny B. Goode."

Amusingly enough, I saw them again about a month later, opening for R.E.M. at the huge Oakland Coliseum.  They made a game effort, but the sheer size and impersonality of the venue was hard for them.

After that, GD sort of fell off the radar. It was a couple years later that 2x4 turned up without fanfare in the store racks.  So I bought it.  I liked the spooky/goofy cover, and I liked GD.  This album's supposed to be their return to form (they worked with Don Dixon, who had producedWalking), but it's one of those albums I listened to a lot at first, then set aside for good.  The songs just aren't as inspired as before.  The band was treading water, and they'd lost much of what made them distinctive in the first place.  The exceptions were the eerie "Little Birds" and mournful and eerie meditation on Attway's drinking problem, "3 AM".  Still I was happy to check them out live again, and saw two of their three local visits - OSB again and San Francisco (The I-Beam) a couple nights before.  They still put on a hell of a show, highlighted by a hilarious, screeching version of "Immigrant Song" and an even funnier "Stayin' Alive" (introduced by Attaway as a tribute to the band they most wanted to sound like).


GD was back the next year with Flip Flop.  This album is generally considered their nadir, and I didn't even hear the whole thing until recently.  I recall being put off by the obnoxious ads - "rock with humor and heart from an acclaimed American band that knows where it's going" (where they were going was away).  I do remember seeing the video for "Always Saturday" on MTV, and, though I found it too slick and pop-ish for GD, it stayed with me.  Today I find the song and the video rather poignant, and I like it a lot.  Listening to Flip Flop now, I think it's a stronger album than 2x4, but I also see the threads of the band coming apart.  The songs are all pretty good, but the band had lost its identity.  I saw them again on that tour, and it was a fun show, but I could tell it was over.  And it was.  The band folded for good that year.

Since then, Murray Attaway released a solo album (In Thrall) which sounds pretty good based on the tracks I've heard - one day I'll pick up a copy.  He did a tour opening to bewildered crowds opening for Johnny Clegg.  He later recorded a second album which now sits gathering dust thanks to Geffen's disinclination to release it.  Jeff Walls has worked with some bands I really like: Southern Culture On The Skids, Dash Rip Rock, Man Or Astro Man - proving he's one cool dude.  Rhett Crowe is a yoga teacher.  John Poe I don't know about it.  In recent years, Murray and Jeff have been playing together in a band called  Bomber City.  What I've heard by them sounds pretty good.  GD reunites from time to time for special shows.  They left me with some fond memories.  Thanks y'all.

Guadalcanal Diary Allmusic
Guadalcanal Diary Wiki
Rhett Crowe's Page 
Bomber City - Facebook

Essential Listening

Walking in the Shadow of the Big Man and Jamboree are available as a nice twofer.  The deluxe CD of Walking features a couple worthwhile rarities, "Liwa Wechi" and "John Wayne", and can be had as a CD or a download. The much-lesser (but loved by some) 2x4 is still available in CD or download, but the superior Flip Flop is out of print - it can, however, be picked up inexpensively.  There is also a now rather rare live album, At Your Birthday Party, capturing a 1999 reunion show, but bootlegs of the band in their heyday are out there, and are preferable.

SONIC YOUTH

Lately I've been listening to the Youth a lot.  Not that I haven't been listening to the Youth for 20+ years, but lately I finally got caught up on their catalog, and I mean I've been listening a lot.

When Sonic Youth first landed on my radar, it wasn't a sure thing.  I mean, the very real problem was guilt by association.  They were always linked to NYC's "no wave" trip.  Lydia Lunch.  Swans.  I have to confess, that's not my scene at all.  Ever.  I remember a review in BAM magazine of, I think, the quasi-legal Walls Have Ears album, that mentioned that SY didn't seem to care too much for rock and roll, "I Wanna Be Your Dog" aside.  That was less than music to my ears, and I hadn't heard a note of SY's back then.  But my interest kept dogging me.  Even after I heard, and was largely disappointed in, Bad Moon Rising, my interest kept dogging me.  The promise was there.  Hey, I love sheets of sheer guitar noise.  I just like them best in service of a real song.  So, it turns out, did Sonic Youth.

I'm surprised, really, that so few have drawn the obvious parallels between the Youth and That Other Famous Band from NYC, y'know, the one that starts with a "V"?  I mean, I'm sure someone has (I rarely have really original ideas), but I haven't come across it yet (if you have please feel free to humiliate me by sending me a link or quote, and source, preferably in the snottiest, most condescending tone possible).

The first obvious parallel - high art NYC connections - Warhol, free jazz, Cale's avant-garde background and Lou's literary leanings, mixed with basic rock`n'roll - Cale/Reed/Tucker/Morrison's fandom and conversance with same, vs the Youth's association with Glenn Branca, the NYC art scene of the early 80's, Kim Gordon's art school background, mixed with Moore's love of hardcore and tough 70's rock (Stooges, Alice Cooper), Ranaldo's love of The Beatles et al, and all three (plus drummers) love of rock and pop in general (didja know the cassette box in their van during their 80's tours included such items as Exile On Main Street, John Cougar Mellencamp's Scarecrow, and the Miami Vice soundtrack?).  That's the first obvious parallel.  Oh, and both bands were influenced by free jazz. I'll get to the others later.

In her very fine essay on That Other Band, found in the very fine anthology Stranded, edited by Greil Marcus, Ellen Willis draws the distinction among rock bands who draw on other art forms as an influence:

While art rock was implicitly based on the claim that rock and roll was or could be as worthy as more

established art forms, rock-and-roll art came out of an obsessive commitment to the language of rock and roll and an equally obsessive disdain for those who rejected that language or wanted it watered down, made easier.

What she means is that some tried to pull in jazz/classical/other highfalutin' shtuff into rock music in order to improve or validate it, while others either deliberately rejected same, or simply pulled same into rock music in order to goose those dusty motherfuckers into action.  Listen to The Who tear apart "The Hall Of The Mountain King" for prime example (you can find it on the reissue, deluxe ed of The Who Sell Out).  That Other Band, she notes, straddled the categories.  So did the Youth.  Or, as they themselves put it, they could make any kind of music they wanted.

Like many artistes, too, the Youth did their growing up in public.  So did most of the indie/underground bands of the era.  In the early albums by Black Flag, Husker Du, the Mats, Soul Asylum and even R.E.M., you can hear the bands trying out, finding their way towards the sound they will eventually perfect (and which will later usually calcify)(one big exception is X, who seemed to arrive fully formed. I'm sure there's others) (one reason for this is that all of these bands got their asses onto magnetic tape A.S.A.P. - thus their formative work was not only preserved but unleashed upon the public).  This was more true than ever with the Youth though.  On their early albums (the first five years - `82-`87, recording-wise), you can practically hear the paint spatters.  Even Moore has admitted that as of their first album (Sonic Youth), they were still trying to figure out what their music would be. The result is a kind of arted-up Feelies - minus the hooks and song structure.  Weird, interesting, not unrewarding - but far from classic (it should be noted though that there are those who consider this their favorite Youth album).  Confusion Is Sex is a dark, bleak, noisy, late-night depression fest.  The music sounds pretty much like the hideous cover would lead you to expect.  It's highlight is "Protect Me You," Kim Gordon's moan-otone hymn to childhood nightmares and fear (or, something).  The soundtrack from the most frightening horror film you've never seen (it should be noted though that there are those who consider this their favorite Youth album).  Bad Moon Rising is a step up, one of the most striking LP jackets of the era.  The music is more angry and confrontational, and their love of lanquid, lyrical arpeggiated guitar figures really starts here ("Intro").  Their love of horror continues - "Death Valley 69" - an ode to mass murder inspired by the Manson killings - is the album's high point (I once had the misfortune to encounter the video for same, late at night on some PBS program [I think] while under the influence of some low-grade LSD.  Bad, very bad) (it should be noted though that there are those who consider this their favorite Youth album).

Starting with EVOL, the soundscapes became less oppressive, more beautiful, even when awash with screeching guitar feedback. A significant change: the addition of new drummer Steve Shelley, replacing Bob Bert.  Where Bert had been a primitive pounder, Shelley brought something new and desperately needed - groove.  EVOL (though it should be noted though that there are those who consider this their favorite Youth album) didn't quite turn the trick for my ears of making Sonic Youth more than an interesting, promising outfit.  Nevertheless, EVOL was important.  Even more important was its follow-up, the even better Sister, which refined their relentless assault into something even more engaging.  There are those who consider this their favorite Youth album.  With these albums, the Youth was finding its legs.  But it was next year that they'd drop the bomb.  Daydream Nation was the wedding of their noise/art impulses to real songs, melodies, even hooks.  It was White Light/White Heat crossed with Revolver.  An orgasmic, two-record set of cosmic noise and joy.

After Nation, the Youth never looked back.  Goo was a more than worthy followup, tightening the song-oriented music of Nation into an even more accessible form (yet not sacrificing a whit of their power).  Since then they've continued to knock out good albums, tour relentlessly, and hang on to their principles, achieving a kind of grandparently status in the "alternative" rock scene, though never becoming a major commercial force.  Though their influence on said scene has been immense, few - or let's be straight and say - none, are even close to operating on the Youth's level.  Still, who would have ever thought they'd achieve the success they have, or be around decades after all their peers have folded?

In late 2012, the band announced an indefinite/permanent hiatus, and Kim/Thurston's divorce.  Bummer.  Thurston has since started the interesting new band Chelsea Light Moving, who's best songs sound like the Youth.  We'll see what happens.  No matter what, the Youth have given us three decades of remarkable music.

Sonic Youth allmusic
Sonic Youth wiki
Sonic Youth.com - official website, and a virtual encyclopedia of information - unequivocally recommended!

Essential Listening

My favorites are obviously Daydream Nation, Goo, Sonic Nurse and The Eternal , in that order.  Of the early ones, I'd favor Sister, EVOL, Bad Moon Rising, Confusion is Sex and Sonic Youth, also pretty much in that order. Post-Goo, I'd go for Dirty, Experimental Jet Set Trash and No Stars, NYC Ghosts and Flowers first.  After that the more meditative Murray Street if you're really a fan.  A Thousand Leaves and Washing Machine leave me cold. It should be noted though that there are those who consider these their favorite Youth albums.  There are several live recordings of semi-official status.  Hold That Tiger and Walls Have Ears are well worth seeking out (both available on the official website, above).  I should note there is a live recordings archive out there dedicated to the band - quite comprehensive and full of good stuff.  Note I'm not giving you the link.  Note there's a clue to be found here.

There are also a host of instrumental and experimental albums, which I haven't delved into enough to comment on.  You're on your own there.  Same goes for the solo albums.

Essential Reading

Goodbye 20th Century by David Browne is a good, solid bio of the band up to their next-to-last album.  The Youth's story is relatively scandal-free (they're all pretty straight people by any standards) so no salacious details, but the discussion of the 80's art scene and their place in it is worthwhile.  I dug it.  I haven't read the earlier Confusion Is Next: The Sonic Youth Story (Alex Foege) but it's generally held to be a less-impressive work.

Essential Viewing

The Youth have been pretty involved in video production since the early days.  The now out-of-print VHS only collection Screaming Fields of Sonic Love contains several of their good early ones ("Death Valley 69", "Teenage Riot","Dirty Boots").  Kill Your Idols is a documentary on the New York noise scene.  It also covers Lydia Lunch, et al.  I haven' seen it to comment.  1991: The Year Punk Broke is a frankly rather dull, dirty-looking film chronicling a European cross-country tour with Nirvana, Dinosaur Jr and Babes In Toyland.