Live review: Sonic Youth 16th June 2001
Royal Festival Hall, London, England
Goodbye Twentieth Century
by Dan Stowell
Sonic Youth's Goodbye Twentieth Century tour (and album of the same
name) was a special one-off, intended as a tribute to some of the twentieth century's
avant-garde composers. It was recorded, and played live, in collaboration with
William Winant, Jim O'Rourke, and others.
The first piece of the night was Having Never Written A Note For Percussion
by James Tenney. A gentle sustained note simply built up to a slow, enormous crescendo,
getting ridiculously loud as a gong and other percussion pushed the sound into
pure noise, then receding ever so slowly and dying away to nothing. As well as
being impressive and beautiful in itself (the composer's intention was to make
the musical equivalent of a Zen koan) it was a big solid statement that the main
event had begun, that there was going to be some serious music for listening to.
Some of the audience were clearly unsettled, even this early on. A minority
obviously hadn't noticed that this wasn't going to be an "ordinary" Sonic Youth
gig, and, fed up, talked through the music and shouted for old songs like 100%
and Teenage Riot. It was a bit annoying, but it comes with the territory
that the band staked out in the late 80s and early 90s when they were such a guiding
influence for grunge.
Some of my favourite parts of the show were the pieces which allowed SY to
explore/show off their own contributions to twentieth-century music. Delicate
layers of harmonics, feedback, tremolo notes, and glockenspiel; extraordinary,
beautiful stabs of mutilated guitar (lots of those!); brilliant, dirty use of
effects pedals; jazz-informed drums and notes. These were brought to Six
and Four6 by John Cage, Treatise by Cornelius Cardew, Burdocks
[excerpt] by Christian Wolff - pieces the whole band played together, often
having a degree of freedom/uncertainty to them allowing the band to play around
with the sounds.
Laetitia Sadler (of Stereolab) and Susan Stenger (an excellent flautist) joined
the six onstage to make a 'double quartet' for a gorgeous rendition of Four6,
the centrepiece of the set at half an hour long. The length of the song made room
for lots of sonic exploration. Out of an arhythmic pool of random sounds a frantic
jazz beat might jump, and then be swallowed up in very strange squeaking feedback.
The next thing you know, the feedback is replaced by some pleasant guitar chords,
over which Kim Gordon shouts "Let's go let's go let's go let's go let's go let's
go let's go let's go let's go!" and William Winant goes crazy on the timpani.
- Just a snapshot from the half-hour adventure.
What was strange was that it seemed like the band 'rewarded' us for sitting
through Four6 with some more easygoing tunes than in the first half - they
closed their main set with two songs from their recent album NYC Ghosts and
Flowers. While those songs weren't bad, they were of course more 'rocky' than
the 'classical' music, and my ears were so attuned to concentrated listening that
SY's own music felt disappointingly linear and unrewarding.
The band played an encore, beginning with Piano Piece #13 (Carpenter's Piece)
by George Maciunas, which is featured on the Goodbye Twentieth Century
CD with video footage of the recording session. It's a concept piece in which
the band hammer some nails into the keys of a piano. On the album the thing is
completely pointless. The sound is no more or less than you'd expect, and neither
the sight nor the sound is interesting or enjoyable. When performed live to a
full auditorium, however, it resurrects the comic absurdism which I hope was in
the mind of the composer. I could only laugh at the daftness of the situation;
a surprisingly large portion of the crowd didn't seem to know how to react and
resorted to angry heckling. (I learnt much later on that Maciunas probably did
have this absurdism in mind - a biography of Maciunas states: "The public was
always the target for his particular sense of art/humour which he termed fluxus.
His sister Niole, recalled the time George and his friends dressed in dentist
outfits, went to the well known Plaza Hotel in NYC. They all knelt down in front
of the hotel, took out tooth brushes, and started polishing the sidewalk.")
While the rest of the band finished hammering, Thurston Moore picked up his
guitar and introduced the whining drone which begins Side2Side (from NYC
Ghosts and Flowers). This song worked really well, starting quite understated
but building up menacingly with harsh harmonics and stabs of twisted guitar. Kim
Gordon's disjointedly yelled vocals ("Wear your ... favourite ... underwear!")
added brilliantly to the atmosphere. It was all getting a bit scary; and then
all of a sudden it stopped and the show was over.