Sonic Youth's founding clairvoyant circuitry scientist, Thurston Moore, played at Neumo's last night.
He wasn't with Sonic Youth, though. He's with a stripped-down band ("We don't have a name," Thurston said bashfully as the set began) featuring acoustic guitars, bass, violin and drums by Sonic Youth drummer Steve Shelley.
The songs he's gigging out, from his new solo album, sparkle with his signature pop star melodies and Trans Am guitar lines, but on back-to-the-land acoustic, the heavy Leadbelly roots are loud and clear.
And there's a second guitarist with the expert Mr. Moore—Keith Richards-circa-Exile- style Chris Brokaw—who trades off with Thurston, picking blues figures while Thurston is bashing out Sonic rock on the low-E, and bashing out Sonic rock while Thurston is playing the blues. They had a call and response guitar rapport that clicked like clockwork and seemed psionic all at once. Psionic Youth.
The bass player broke a string early in the set (yes, they broke a bass string!) and during the lull, Thurston was charming (giving away an organic cantaloupe he happened to have on hand and talking about "a hippie to punk era record store" he used to love.)
I was hoping, however, he would have used the downtime to reenact the last cut on his new album—a recording of Thurston when he was 13 circa 1972 narrating a Terry Riley? Steve Reich?-inspired art track: "The sound you are about to hear is me spraying a Lysol can around the room. There. The sound you are about to hear is me putting the cap back on the Lysol can. There."
Great show. And it was packed. Could have done without the macho hecklers, though, who seemed to think Thurston's legacy of noise rock means he's a macho asshole like them. Nope. Thurston's a gentle soul. Last night's wonderfully reckless acoustic raveup proved it once and for all.
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And at the end of the day, Girl Talk played to an excited, sweaty, and oversold crowd. They were turning hundreds of people away at the door, but Jeff Kirby was one of the lucky ones to get in. (BTW, I'm glad you didn't drink that mystery beer, Jeff.)
To get full recaps of Saturday, check out what Eric Grandy and Jeff Kirby have to say about Mirah's stretch-pants, Gabriel Teodros, the Fleet Foxes, Spoon, and so much more.
And one thing I learned? One shouldn't take this bag into this mosh pit. The record is now in seven pieces, but at least my Nintendo DS and sunglasses survived. Fuck, that was a lot of fun.
There's a bunch more to come over the next couple days too--interviews with bands, more photos, the infamous Crayolas, and, as everyone stars to recover from their hangovers, sunburns and/or exhaustion, probably some more reviews and thoughts of the weekend. I'm too tired to do it now, but I still want to rave about how great Against Me! was, and tell you about how Ben Gibbard told me I don't like music. Well, basically.
For now, there's also this, my favorite 20 seconds of the whole weekend. This is what happens when a bunch of (drunk) people get bored in the beer garden while waiting for the after-party to start. I'm so glad I had my camera.
More Maritime: The band posts another new song on the internets.
Smashing Pumpkins Respond: "Another mistruth in this letter is the statement that the Pumpkins were once the most important band in the world. If the facts are what we are all seeking, everyone knows that Citizen Dick has always been and will forever be the most important band in the world."
Art Brut by Justin Renney
Lupe Fiasco by Justin Renney
