Soundbites

 

Sonic Youth “Murray Street” Geffen Records,
Inc.

The term “classic rock” often bears negative
associations, especially for fans of a band like Sonic Youth, which
pioneered an alternative movement that split from the rock canon.
So when Thurston Moore told me in April that the band was readying
its “classic rock” record (named after the street by
the band’s New York studio, and an allusion to the
Beatles’ “Abbey Road”), and that newly instated
member Jim O’Rourke was a “huge Rush fan,” there
was reason to be leery of his comments. Luckily, “Murray
Street” isn’t the type of material heard alongside
typical Arrow 93 material; this isn’t classic rock but
classic Sonic Youth. The familiar guitar tunings are here, as are
the indier-than-thou vocal styles, but most impressive is the way
Sonic Youth has managed to make its more “experimental”
side not seem experimental at all. Heavy and driving tunes
dominate. “Karen Revisited” rolls along with virtuoso
guitar licks and thick atmospherics, only to drown in an 8-minute
ambient soundscape. “Radical Adults Lick Godhead Style”
rises with melodramatic fervor, but the band sounds like it can do
it without breaking a sweat. And when Kim Gordon sings on
“Plastic Sun,” “I hate you and your fishy friends
/ I hate you and it never ends,” it seems as though Sonic
Youth can give the corniest lines strength with its urban cool.
-Andrew Lee

Pulp “We Love Life” Rough Trade
Records

This isn’t the Jarvis Cocker we like; it isn’t even
a Jarvis Cocker we ever knew existed. Though premiere Brit-pop
group Pulp has always felt at home and thrived in the gloomy
corners of Sheffield’s trashiest clubs, simultaneously
discrediting and romanticizing English bohemian life, “We
Love Life” shows that one step into the sunlight really makes
Pulp wither. The problem is that Cocker, the group’s singer,
simply isn’t comfortable in the sun. He is rarely able to
maintain a feeling of optimism within a single song, let alone an
entire album. The result is a clumsy balancing of contentment and
menace. How does the harrowing 8-minute “Wickerman”
logically precede “I Love Life”? Predictably, there are
the usual moments of inspired songwriting (“The Night That
Minnie Timperley Died,” “Weeds”), and
Cocker’s genuine, if overrated, lyrical talents often allow
the listener to get swept up in a current of emotions, but what was
once a roller coaster has derailed. -Andrew Lee

Superdrag “Last Call For Vitriol” Arena Rock
Recording Co.

Let’s admit it, numbingly formulaic and completely lacking
in energy, Superdrag isn’t too good at this pop-punk thing.
It’s a shame, too, since singer John Davis has a fine knack
for melody. “Last Call for Vitriol” only shows that
fuzzed-out guitars and melody can still lull a listener to sleep.
The band lacks the spontaneity (and therefore energy) that makes
pop-punk in the vein of Superchunk so fun. Here, every song bleeds
into the others with the same structure, tame guitar fuzz, and
impotent drums and vocals. The album starts with the line
“she’s one in a billion/ with lips of vermilion,”
and it’s an indicator of what’s in store for the rest.
But the band throws a welcome wrench in the gears by dropping its
Fisher-Price guitars and letting Davis take over with a pedal steel
on “Safe & Warm.” With a distinct southern flavor,
the track sounds soulful, lilting and more importantly, natural. It
seems Superdrag is more at ease taking it slow than it is at
speeding things up. But four albums into the band’s career,
it seems unlikely that it’ll ever learn. -Andrew Lee