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Sonic Youth:
NYC Ghosts & Flowers (Geffen)
I can't figure out why I have read so many lukewarm reviews of the newest
Sonic Youth release. Simply put, there is no band that sounds remotely close to what SY are
committing to tape or who stretch themselves and their listeners with each passing year. In
today's ADD-benighted world, I predict few will remember NYC Ghosts & Flowers for any
best-of lists in four months, let alone recall its passion a few years hence.
The co-producer is Jim O'Rourke, the "other" indie recording
maverick from Chicago, and a major contributor to SYR3. His hand is apparent in the
repetition of sounds that build to slashing crescendos, not unlike the arrival of the #4 train
at Union Square. This deft touch genuinely gives the music an urban feel, as opposed to the
colossal spaced out moments of, say, "Wildflower Soul" from '98's stunning A Thousand
Leaves. It's worth dwelling on this because the sounds mirror well the band's mostly
Beat-inspired and occasionally such-declaimed, repeated lyrics as well as the city itself.
She is only the cacophonous gridlock of taxi horns blaring to those who haven't found a tranquil
moment in Bryant Park or on the rooftop sculpture garden at the Met or on a bench in Little
Italy. A manhole cover graces the top of the CD itself. Could this band truly hail from anywhere
else? Fuhgeddaboudit.
Thurston Moore still is a social observer of the highest order.
"Small Flowers Crack Concrete" is a distillation of the past year's headlines in NYC where the
cops frequently shot first and pleaded innocent later. Lee Ranaldo, granted one or two
opportunities per album to step away from long shadows cast by the band's married skyscrapers,
gives us the title track. It's another of his free-associated, though intricately told tales
that for me may rank up with his crown jewels, "Eric's Trip" and "Karen Koltrane," once I've
digested all eight of its minutes.
Remember when Kim Gordon went toe-to-toe with the city's best
MC, Chuck D, on Goo's "Kool Thing"? A decade later, she drops the best rhyme of the year,
bar none. "Boys go to Jupiter to get more stupider/Girls go to Mars, become rock stars." (Note
to trainspotters: Sleater-Kinney has been a frequent support act for the Youth in recent years.)
Pass up this disc at your own risk.
Rating: 8
- Tim Frommer
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