Like most people under the age of fifty, I first encountered Sonic Youth back when I was a young teenager. Their first album,Confusion is Sex, was laying face-up on a friend’s coffee table. It belonged to her older sister, whose age and coolness terrified me. I had no idea what the title meant or how prophetic it would prove to be, but that notion caught my attention; the music has held it ever since. In the worlds of punk rock and experimental music, nobody has composed a more vital sound effect for the unruliness of life than Sonic Youth. Three decades after its New York start behind the post-punk No Wave movement, the band is still treading the path of chance paved by American composer John Cage. Their motor runs behind a mindset that everything works out to something, and as a result, Sonic Youth has produced more albums than most bands will ever dream of. This year, following a return to their indie beginnings with a move to Matador Records, the noise artists cum cultural architects are back with their 16th studio album, The Eternal. Like everything Sonic Youth creates, the vibe is familiar and alien, a reformation of aggressions with a mischievous charm, a playful energy that is fun and infectious. The Eternal is ripe with new sounds and imagery, with a heartbeat that is unmistakably Sonic Youth.
Like parts of an ivy plant, the members of Sonic Youth allow one another to move and grow in all directions, each finding the unexplored space and filling it, Kim Gordon with her constant involvement with visual arts, Thurston Moore with his solo projects and endless collaborations with other musicians, Lee Ranaldo with his contribution to literature and spoken word, and Steve Shelley work running his own label Smells Like Records. Their breadth of involvement is a testament to the value of keeping an underground sensibility while working within a mainstream machine. For this sensibility, Sonic Youth’s album art reads like a mini MOMA, each page a mosaic of keepsakes, their own and others: A drawing from William S. Burroughs, a painting by Kim, Lee’s photo of a New York sidewalk, an illustration by Raymond Pettibon. Chronic collaborators in art and life, Sonic Youth is committed to a lifetime of uncertainty, to perpetual sweaty palms and heart palpitations, a state of eternal youth. The first interview with one of rock’s most iconic women is set for late afternoon on Easter Sunday.
Jules Moore.— Hi Kim, how are you?
Kim Gordon.— Oh, pretty good.
— I just recently saw the photos you took with Ari [Marcopoulos].
— How do they look?
— The images are beautiful. Ari had mentioned that you go back quite a ways. How did you guys meet?
— Through the Beastie Boys maybe? Ari was always around taking pictures and he has a little boy who’s our daughter Coco’s age, or maybe a year older.
— So, the new album. It’s been a big part of my life these past few days. I think it’s incredible. How do you feel about it?
— Oh, well, I’m glad you like it. We’re pretty happy with it. It was really fun to make and we wrote it quickly.
— I’m sure it varies from album to album but, generally speaking, is the recording process something you tend to make playful or take very seriously?
— Playful? (laughs) I don’t think I’d describe it that way, but I guess because we recorded in our own studio, which is always more relaxing, it is kind of comfortable. That and we pretty much play all at once. There aren’t that many overdubs. Yeah, it’s comfortable. And John Agnello, the engineer, is really fun to work with too.
— I think it comes across that way too. Out of the dozen new tracks, could you select one that’s closest to you?
— “Massage the History”, in a way. It’s kind of a sad vampire love song. It’s a lot of things. It’s also a kind of metaphor for the record industry and kind of makes reference to our history and, I don’t know, I can’t really explain how it’s closest to me.
— If you were to play only one song for a friend, would that be it?
— Well, if I was going to play my favorite song off the album, I guess I would play “Poison Arrow”. I just really love that song. It’s really fun and I love the way the background vocals came out. The melody reminds me of a Kevin Ayers song. I also like “Anti Orgasm” a lot.
— What about some of your projects – for instance, Free Kitten [musical collaboration with Pussy Galore’s Julie Catfritz]. That’s exciting.
— We’re not really working on anything right now but we’re talking about doing a single. I’m working on some art for a book coming out in the fall. It’s a collection of paintings and photographs. We have an exhibit that’s been traveling in Europe based on different artists whose work we’ve done collaborations with over the years. People like Dan Graham and Tony Oursler, Mike Kelly, Raymond Pettibon, Jody Conrad, and then Sonic Youth has assembled some of our own works. So that’s going to be opening in Malmo. Now it’s in Germany, and it’s opening in Sweden in May. So we’ll be going over there.
— Speaking of connecting and collaborating with other artists, I read an article where Spike Jonze credits you as being the single phone call that set him off into a life of directing. If I’m not mistaken, that’s also when you met Marc Gonzales. Was there something you saw in him back then, some kind of untapped creativity or energy there?
— Yeah. Thurston had seen the Blind Skateboards video that Spike had done and it was basically these guys riding in a car that eventually goes off a cliff and the video we had in mind [for the song] 100% involved skateboarding. Thurston thought it would be great to have Spike shoot that part of it. Cameron Davis was the director and she basically taught Spike how to make a music video. We had him shoot the skating part and Marc Gonzales came by and actually Jason Lee was in the video too. And Marc was great. He kind of just opened the trunk of his car and said “does anyone want any paintings?’
— Were they his own paintings he was selling?
— Yeah, he’s a really good artist. Anyway, that’s basically how Spike learned how to make videos, although I’m sure he would have gotten to it sooner or later. Cameron very generously showed him how to edit and from there he just took off.
— In the way of film, you were involved with Todd Haynes’ I’m Not There on different levels; aside from being in it, Sonic Youth did the title track. What was that like?
— I thought Thurston did an amazing job. We all took a turn trying to sing it but his was so great right off the bat. Yeah, Todd is such an amazing filmmaker and I really like his films a lot. That approach made so much sense for Dylan.
— You’ve also been in another biopic, Gus van Sant’s Last Days. It triggered a lot of discussion as to what you were, nobody could agree, and maybe that’s the idea. The moment when you come in and offer an escape route and share that moment with Michael Pitt’s character was really intense. Could you shed any light there?
— I was thinking of somebody there. Rosemary Carrol, actually. She’s a lawyer for Courtney. She’s kind of an eccentric. So I was thinking vaguely of her. And then I was thinking of Francis, Kurt’s daughter, and how that would be the one way to really get through to him. It was strange to do but at the same time was so much fun. (laughs) On the one hand it’s such a sad and profoundly subversive thing to do. Because, you know, Thurston and I had never ever talked about Kurt to anyone. Thurston had been consulting with Gus about the movie, and also talking with Michael, and we had Michael come up to the house and they jammed and stuff, and then it felt kind of easy to do because there was hardly anyone in the room. It was a little unnerving going up there ‘cause like Harmony Korine was there doing a scene and other people I know and admire. But it was basically just improvising the lines.
— One of the overarching themes in this issue of Hobo is nostalgia in art. Do you see any of your music or visual art as nostalgic or inspired by nostalgia?
— Nostalgia is a funny word. I tend to equate sentimentality with nostalgia. Does that make sense? I don’t really think of our music as sentimental but we reference a lot of history, certainly on this new record. The fact that we’re back with an independent label again and working with Gerard Cosloy, who we worked with when we were at Homestead Records, is kind of like coming full circle, coming back to people who we’ve known for such a long time. Maybe that’s where we’re at nostalgia-wise.
— Do you collect anything?
— Well, not intentionally. I’ve been auctioning off my vintage Darryl K clothes, which I didn’t intentionally collect. I’m not a collector like Thurston is. He collects a lot of records. I’m not anti-collecting but I don’t want the responsibility of having to take care of things. I like to have books and art, but when I think of collectors I think of someone who’s pretty focused and kind of obsessed in their acquisition of things.
— Is there a designer you’d trust to dress you?
— I like to go out and find things. I like the store No.6 in New York. This woman Karen, she’s a stylist and she has a line. She has all sorts of interesting vintage clothes and other slightly avant-garde designers.
— Your work is above all, consistent. Is that a result of having a lot of direction? Do you always have a pretty firm grip on where you’re going?
— We have no direction (laughs). I mean, we have kind of a work strategy for how we’re specifically going to do it because Thurston and I don’t live in New York. But we don’t have such a direction. Maybe when it comes to initiating songs. In that sense there’s a focus, but I’m a firm believer in getting lost too and just, you know, that cliché that when you’re lost, that can be a really strong place to work from.
— Since your work and art and love is so integrated with you and Thurston, is there an overlap? Do you ever start writing lyrics together in the middle of daily routines, like unexpectedly when you’re just hanging out?
— Well, the song “Anti Orgasm” came about when Thurston and I were watching this German movie called 8 Miles High about this model in the 60s, Uschi Obermeier, this sort of glamorous girl who became involved with a commune, and how they were kind of into open free sex and this girl says, “we’re not really into orgasms” (laughs).
— Has Sonic Youth’s core family dynamic changed much over time?
— Not really. I guess we got to be more mature (laughs). I mean, we know how to get along with each other and we don’t drink or do drugs, which is often the thing that breaks a band. So the dynamics of the band haven’t really changed that much. I think that fact that we all have different projects outside Sonic Youth helps to alleviate the pressure that this band has to fulfill everybody’s needs all the time. You can have different dynamics when you play with different people.
— Was it a collective decision to not drink or do drugs?
— No, of course not. We’re just boring (laughs).
— In one of Ari’s photos there’s this great wall of tapes and tucked in is a photo of Patti Smith sticking her tongue out. How did you and Patti meet?
— Thurston was actually much more a Patti Smith fan than I was ‘cause he was in New York in the 70’s going to CBGB’s and saw her early readings. We met her when she came back to New York. I was totally into her and so kind of in awe of her energy as a performer and the fact that she was so androgynous. Also, her idols were male musicians, which I found interesting and I was somewhat of a tomboy so I kind of related to that.
— Is that an energy you tend to value in others?
— With her, the admiration is because I felt I could never do that. There’s a certain kind of theatrics to what she does and she’s also very unself-conscious. I don’t see myself as being a sort of charismatic performer so I guess I admire that.
— Looking back at your shows, what kind of audience makes you walk off stage and say “that was a good crowd, a good show, a good night”.
— I guess it’s when you feel that it’s all sounding good and you feel the audience being with you and that’s where you can lose yourself and not feel self-conscious. The worst is being in a really dry place where you can hear someone talking from twenty feet down, an acoustically dead room. The audience is involved as kind of the sound observers and all the energy they impart.
— I see this beautiful dog in the photos. What’s the name?
— Merzbow, named after the Japanese noise artist.
— Ah nice. Well, thank you so much for your time and happy Mother’s Day.
— That’s in May, no? Easter’s what’s coming up.
— Really? Maybe I should pull that card out of the mail.
— I don’t know, maybe you should leave it.
— (laughs) Well, have a great day Kim.
— Yeah, you too.
Where Kim guides you through the garden, Thurston shows up with a trowel, ready to uproot and examine each detail with a loose, think-aloud approach to dialogue. One week after speaking with Kim, I catch up with Thurston at the crack of dawn on a rainy Sunday. Thurston is driving through Lower Manhattan, on route to a friend’s recording studio in Jersey. Throughout our conversation, there are numerous silences, pauses, garbled words and static. As Thurston pulls into the Holland Tunnel, he warns me that reception may fail. He’s right. I lose him completely, panic and pace the room. As John Cage once said, “We live in messy conversation located at lively intersections of present, past and future.” An hour later, far from hi-way pandemonium, Thurston is back on the line.
Jules Moore.— Hi. Okay, are you in a still place now?
Thurston Moore. — Yes.
— We were speaking about being on [the label] Matador right now and I was wondering about the face of the album. The cover is a painting by John Fahey. I’m wondering why his artwork seems fitting for you in this case?
— John was a good friend of mine in his last years. I met him late in his life, and he had sort of reconnected with wanting to go out and play music publicly and recording, when he found out that there were people in the experimental avant-garde underground who really recognized him as a figure of independent kind of musical ideas. He was kind of an outsider in the whole sort of ‘60s folk guitar scene. But he was also recognized by that scene as being somebody who was extremely iconoclastic and at the same time a genuine scholar of the music, of blues music and folk music in its form. I think when he found out that people like Jim O’Rourke and Sonic Youth and others were naming him as an influence, I think he got really interested in that. And we just connected with him. He was a real character, [a] really eccentric artist. I actually did a little tour with him in, I think, the late ‘90s… he just basically sprawled out in the backseat of my Volvo and we’d drive up and down the Eastern Seaboard playing these little clubs. He sent me a bunch of paintings and I always held on to them. When we were doing this record and we decided to call it The Eternal, I thought (the cover painting) was completely appropriate for whatever we were trying to evoke with a title like that.
— Reflecting back on some of the keystone tracks, songs from back in the day – “Teenage Riot”, “Kool Thing”, “Pink Steam”, “Dirty Boots” songs like that-I feel that there’s a mood that endures. It plays on growing pains, tensions, anxieties that are tangled up in an individual’s aging process. Would you agree with that interpretation?
— I would agree with that. I really do think all of our lyrics were very personalized. Once in a while we’d step aside and make commentary about populist concerns, but, by and large, the lyrics deal with internal issues about age and gender and other sort of societal image issues. Also connections and feelings between lovers and desires and such. I don’t think I could ever write “Teenage Riot” lyrics again.
— I was reading an interview with Nick Cave recently and he was talking about Murder Ballads being a line in the sand between old and new Bad Seeds. Could you single out one album that marks a line in the sand between the Old and New, or Young and Mature?
— Yeah. Like, certainly, you got the Daydream Nation – when we went in and started doing mid nineties records of Goo and Dirty – and then onwards. But I think it would almost be after Dirty, where we kind of stepped back from what was going on with the whole alternative rock explosion, where we could have gone with that or with following our instincts to make music that was a little bit less obvious. Like Experimental Jet Set, Trash and No Star, which was very minimal and linear and very unfashionable. I think that was kind of the important line right there, between Dirty and Experimental Jet Set.
— Your solo album Trees Outside the Academy is a really enchanting record. Do you think you’ll put more energy in that space again?
— I would love to do another record not only like that, but with the band that actually played that music live afterwards. I mean, the record’s pretty much myself with Steve Shelley and Samara Lubelski. And I played all the guitars with Dave. I had J. Mascis play a little bit on it. But the live band was that same trio with Chris Brokaw on second guitar and Matt Hainer playing bass. I really like that band. We toured a little bit on the West Coast. It’s really a matter of finding the minutes to do this kind of stuff.
— I watched an interview that you did about a bookstore and the beauty of tangible things, keeping things in print versus everything becoming about blogs and YouTube and whatnot. It was about this nice permanence to things you can hold and document forever.
— I like the tactile aspect of creative works. I mean, people have asked me “how do you listen to all those records you buy and collect” but I don’t really listen to all. I like looking at them and holding them. [laughs]
— So records are kind of like art.
— I kind of gleaned energy from it as much as I do putting it on the stereo and listening to it. It’s almost of equal value, just for me to see it, hold it, look at it. You know, if you have a romance with somebody you don’t just want to hear them. You want to see them and touch them as well.
— Is there an album or a piece of music that can guarantee you a particular mood or feeling, that you can count on to put you in a certain place?
— There’s certainly records like that. Certainly the first Ramones album was very important to me because I was very curious about it before it even existed, because I knew something was going on there. And when it first came out in ‘76, and I was eighteen years old, and I immediately went for it and it was very alien, it was very odd. There was really nothing like it, but I knew where it was coming from. Punk rock was not at a genre so much yet that record was almost coming out of glam and glitter rock in a way. It was taking all the colour away from it, stripping it down, and that record, just in the way it looked for four guys leaning against that wall on First Street at the Bowery, really meant a lot to me. And it was right when I started driving into New York and becoming completely enamored by it. So I still look at that album, pick it up and listen to it or not. It really brings me to a very significant place psychologically.
— Do you and Kim share a lot of music with each other? Is part of experiencing music sharing it?
— Yeah, I mean, I’m always bringing stuff to the house. I go through periods where I look at certain genres of music, like rap (or) like, really underground, kind of unlistenable black metal music. We definitely share things, and our daughter (who) is fifteen years old shares. Things I would never think I would be interested in I hear through her.
— What kind of stuff?
— You know, things you hear about, like Regina Spector or a lot of contemporary females, songwriter stuff, semi-mainstream, that she comes across. Or even bands that I would never listen to, like a band like The Dodos or something. They were kind of a hot gay pop punk band of sorts. I would never have had access to that and she’d be playing it in the car and I’d be like “what’s this?” because the band was totally great, kind of pop bubblegum hook to it without being too inane. And she hips me to it, you know, so that’s kind of cool.
— So she’s off on her own hunt. Have you and Kim offered some musical guidance?
— Well, she’s discovered through us, like, ‘60s stuff. At an early age she really recognized the Beatles, the Kinks and the Who as being kind of amazing. And she listened to it a lot because some of those Beatles songs are like nursery rhymes. But she also responded to music by Dinosaur Jr. or Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs, bands that are friends of ours that we have records of. She’s never really gone through a period where she listens to, you know, Britney Spears or Spice Girls or whatever kids were listening to at her younger age. She knew about it. She might have checked it out. She really liked Fiona Apple.
— Yeah, she’s wonderful.
— That record Fiona Apple did, I would have never, ever listened to that record, but Coco played it incessantly and I think it’s one of the most brilliantly composed records that I’ve heard in a decade.
— I’m curious about you and Kim, your method in life together. I imagine that you’re together a lot. Is there any risk in sharing your love and your work, or is one reflected in the other?
— We also have lives somewhat away from each other. I have a whole world of activity I’m into, playing improvised music with some of my noise friends in basements throughout the New England area. She and I will play together as a duo, Mirror/Dash, but that’s not something she wants to do that much, whereas I want to do it all the time. As a visual artist she does a lot of painting and artwork. She’s involved in the art world, New York, Europe and L.A. to some degree, quite a bit. So both of us are working different places a lot, somewhere away from each other, but aware of each other. But we are together more than we’re not. We’ve always been very intimately connected just through the fact that we work together in Sonic Youth. And if there’s any kind of edge to the situation, our relationship, it would have been early on when we were younger and maybe a little more immature, especially at my end, with how we’re happening dynamically in the band. We’ve been in a very good phase, romantically, emotionally for many, many years, especially with the birth of our daughter. Every relationship has kind of ups and downs. We’ve never had any serious problem in our relationship for sure.
— Before I forget, there’s a guilty pleasure question I have: what’s the story with the Sons of Lee Marvin Club?
— Oh, that’s just kind of a secret society of people who don’t even deal with each other. That’s how disparate and beneath the radar. Like, the people in that society aren’t even quite sure who else is in it. They only know who else is in it through everyone once in a while a journalist will mention the fact that the person they’re interviewing is in it. [laughs]
— Which I’ve just contributed to.
— Yes, exactly.
— I guess I should probably wind down a little bit here. I want to say thank you so much for taking time out today for me. And for us.
— Oh absolutely.
— Okay, take care.
— You too, ciao!
Two hours and three coffees later, I reach out to Steve Shelley after his lunch. He is well mannered, quick to the point without being rude. I tell him about my earlier conversations with Kim and Thurston. He knows I’ve got the bases loaded and therefore is quick to skim over the past and get right down to current business, a well-ripened cherry atop Sunday’s Sonic sundae.
Jules Moore. — Hi, Steve, how are you?
Steve Shelley. — I’m good. How’s it going?
— Great! So, you’re in New York, yes?
— I am in Hoboken, actually. At our studio.
— You are originally from Michigan, so coming into New York and connecting with Lee and Thurston and Kim; what did that cohesion come out of?
— In 1985?
— Sure.
— [laughs] You know, I moved to New York and I joined this band and, much like you join any group of people, you kind of learn what each other is about and how you can work together. We were very lucky that we were able to work together in a really interesting way.
— I imagine it as being some kind of explosive chemical mixing, right from the get go.
— It could be, yes. Yeah, we just don’t know how that works.
— In ‘92 you founded Smells Like Records. What did you have in mind at that time with that venture?
— I just got interested in putting out music by friends and people that I admired. For quite a few years I put out, I don’t know, fifty-something releases, and it’s grown to include final editions of Sonic Youth music and an instrumental label that the band does themselves called SYR so it’s grown to be quite a project, quite a business.
— Now you guys are working directly with Matador. What was your experience in developing this album this time?
— We pretty much just do what we do. In fact, Matador’s been really helpful- we’re really happy with our new label and we think that they’re a lot of fun to work with right now. They give us a lot of support and that’s a really cool thing that a label can give you, is support and encouragement. We actually feel like we’re in a really good space in this life as far as really sharing music and distributing it around the world. So we’re very happy to be working with them. As for the creative process, when we get together and read music, we don’t really think about who is handling the music or who we’re working with. It’s a whole other process. We just sort of get together and see what we can come up with, you know, with a group of us.
— In the off-season when you’re working on your other projects, and you’re not focusing directly on a Sonic Youth album, are you banking things to bring to the table for the next meeting of minds?
— I don’t do that so much. It’s more of an ‘in the moment’ kind of thing. When we get together it’s like things either come together or they don’t. Right now Sonic Youth’s engineer and myself are putting together a series of concerts, mixing concerts from throughout the years of Sonic Youth Live, to be broadcast on Sirius Radio. There’s always something going on with Sonic Youth world, even if it doesn’t seem that way for the public.
— When will that be coming out?
— I think this is going to air the week before our new album comes out. It’s just, like, five nights of Sonic Youth programming concerts but we record almost every night that we play a concert. So Erin and I have been going through and picking concerts that we thought might be interesting for the fans to hear.
— That week or day that the album comes out, is there some sort of ritual that goes along?
— No, that day is really arbitrary as far as our life goes. I mean, it’s just a day the new record is available. A new record, it goes on to have a life of its own or not. The fans and the public decide what kind of a life it has once you’ve released it. It’s sort of like it’s not your property anymore. It becomes the public’s property.
— Is there anything else you’re looking forward to now that the new Sonic Youth album is out?
— I’m excited to go on tour this summer. We have a series of live shows lined up and I really enjoy that a lot. We’re going to spend a lot of time in North America this summer playing shows.
— What is some music that you’re really enjoying these days for yourself?
— What am I really enjoying? I don’t know. I always seem to be going through a Bob Dylan phase and lately I’ve been listening to a lot of new and old Bob Dylan music.
— I’m always in a Bob Dylan phase.
— Yeah, it’s always coming and going, but there are times where it’s heavier. Definitely it’s heavy right now, just with all the activity that he’s been having with his radio show and bootleg releases and all that.
— And a new album coming out as well.
— Yeah and I’m looking forward to Neil Young’s archive box set quite a bit. I’m a long time Neil Young fan and so I’m really curious to hear what he’s put together.
— You guys toured with Neil Young. What was that like?
— It was a lot of fun. I saw a lot of concerts. [Laughs] But he’s one of my all-time favourites. Just a really big fan of Neil Young’s.
— What’s your favorite Bob Dylan album at this moment?
— Well, I think not even just at the moment, my usual favourite album of Bob Dylan’s is Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid which is not a typical record of his but I really love that album.
— Lots of good instrumentals on that.
— Yeah, yeah, exactly. It’s not typical because it is partially instrumental.
— Well, I should let you get back to your work.
— Okay, yeah, we’re mixing for Sirius Radio today.
— Oh nice. Well, thanks so much for taking time out to chat Steve.
— Okay, sure.
— Okay, Bye.
— Bye bye.
One day we’ll get Lee. One day.
