[The New Classics is a reoccurring segment in which we examine our favorite indie releases that are bound to replace our parent’s “classic rock” stash hidden in the attic or the basement. These aren’t reviews, these are unedited testimonies and opinions about why we love what we love. Can we get a witness?]

Album: Murray Street
Artist: Sonic Youth
Released: June 25, 2002
Label: Interscope/DGC

Words by Ricky Moslen

Murray Street first appeared, not in CD or record format, but as a streaming album on Sonic Youth‘s website in 2002. (A free, streaming album? In 2002? Quite cutting-edge, guys!) The band then toured the US, Japan, and Europe as the songs received solid feedback from critics and fans alike. It’s arguably their best, most inspired release of the past ten years, but its story is as intriguing as the finished product.

Sonic Youth / The Empty Page
Sonic Youth / Rain On Tin
Sonic Youth / Sympathy for the Strawberry

While Murray Street sounds nothing like Sister, Daydream Nation, or other SY classics, that’s what makes it essential—it documents the Sonic Youth of 2001, not 1988. If none of these albums sound familiar, then, well, you need a super outlandish excuse for such musical ignorance (legit reasons include: you’re deaf; you’ve never owned a compact disc in your life; or guitar feedback causes your face to bleed ugly red rashes). Before we get into the actual tracks, let’s talk about what nearly destroyed this album, along with the band’s studio (AND America’s freedom) during the recording process.

So the story goes like this. It was a decent Tuesday morning in New York City. Newly initiated fifth member of Sonic Youth, Jim O’Rourke, slept on a couch in their lower-Manhattan studio—hell, it was probably his unofficial sleeping spot … all workaholics need one. The subtle morning was halted by an explosion-like cry from outside that shook the walls. It turns out a plane flew into a building only a few blocks away, and, well, you know the rest of the story. O’Rourke escaped the madness unharmed, but it was over a month before the survival of their Murray Street studio was known. Even if they immediately returned to the unscathed recording sanctity, how can one focus on bass tones, drum levels, and passionate guitar feedback when thousands of buried bodies decay under rubble a few blocks away? They soon dodged the concerned tourists and broke through the road blockades each morning to arrive at the studio and bring their album’s seven songs to life.

Months earlier, back when airport security guards didn’t stick their hands up your butt as part of a “random security check,” singer/guitarist Thurston Moore penned a handful of songs on his acoustic guitar for a solo album. He’d been around long enough to recognize his songs’ potential if re-worked by the 30-year old band, so his solo album idea became the group’s fourteenth full-length. Upon first listen, the songs sound a bit … how do I say it … jammy. OH SHIT—NOT THAT WORD. Will NYC’s most precious noise scoundrels cross the line into String Cheese Incident territory? My answer: no. Alluding to these songs as “jam-based” is an insult to the carefully-constructed string parts, so forget that I used the dreaded J-word—it was just a first impression. The more structured flow of Murray Street was an outcry from the free-form noise poetry of 2001′s NYC Ghosts and Flowers (which wasn’t as bad of an album as everyone back then claimed). In fact the albums are polar opposites, but like any noise they’ve strummed through the years, it always resembles the Sonic Youth we love.

Now onto the songs! “The Empty Page”‘s tuneful opening reveals the sunny side of Sonic Youth with lyrics soulful as ever: “These are the words but not the truth / God bless them all when they speak to you / But that’s alright / You’re here to stay / Sing out tonight / The empty page!” A murky in-your-face prayer starts “Rain on Tin,” followed by a crescendo from clean, interweaving guitar lines to full-on mental breakdown. It’s a perfect song and a spot-on example of how Sonic Youth‘s transcendent guitar parts speak greater than any lyrics—and good for them, because with the exception of guitarist Lee Ranaldo, they were never the greatest lyricists. Speaking of Lee Ranaldo, his “Karen Revisted” (“Karenology” for all you hardcore fans) ranks with “Rain on Tin” as one of the best Sonic Youth songs in their catalog. I wish I were a NYC rat hiding beneath Jim O’Rourke’s couch as they recorded the song’s eight-minute noise outro—even if the volume levels shattered my front teeth. Delaying the inevitable, it’s not until track six that we hear Kim Gordon’s signature howl. The manic “Plastic Sun” and sexy, psychedelic “Sympathy for the Strawberry” end the album with a double-dose of Gordon—a ballsy choice of song order. (Unrelated to all of this, there’s a cat that hangs out on my street whose face looks exactly like Kim Gordon (a cat as in the animal, as opposed to a really cool dude)).

We all have that one band growing up that even our parents knew we loved—and Sonic Youth were that band for me. They were my vessel into the world of “music that’s not on the radio,” but don’t just believe me. Everyone from Neil Young to Nirvana to David Geffen to Sophia Coppola to Jason Lee to every “indie” band of the 90′s, to that random kid sitting next to you in the coffee shop, were influenced or inspired by Sonic Youth in some way. In independent DIY culture they were to the guitar what Julia Child was to television cooking: amazing. Even the Library of Congress recognized the band’s importance by inducting Daydream Nation into the Library a few years ago. When my dad visits a record or CD store, he still calls to see if their lone, used SY CD is one I already own (it always is). So they’re still kind of a big deal.

Sonic Youth played the Three Rivers Arts Festival back in 2003 when the Three Rivers Arts Festival included music for people under the age of fifty. Instead of resorting to a greatest hits set, they violently scrapped their guitars across the stage, rubbed their strings through the bushes and trees, and played every song from this album. Their live shows reveal an ever-evolving band, just like their albums.

Despite it’s recording challenges, Murray Street was the new decade’s indication that Sonic Youth were far from ending their epic musical journey, and well into their fifties, they still rock harder than any noisy punk band practicing in any parents’ basement.

Buy Murray Street at Insound / Amazon / iTunes / direct from Sonic Youth‘s store. You know you wanna.

Filed under: New Classics, Not Blake, Jim, or Brendan