Sonic Youth Celebrate Brooklyn at Prospect Park Bandshell ...
Eric Shapiro - NY Press - 8/2/2010
As it turns out, Sonic Youth is just as great in middle age as the band has ever been. Critics have heaped so much praise on the band that to compliment it more is almost meaningless. Even so, I can’t find anything bad to say about the performance Saturday night at the Prospect Park Bandshell as part of the Celebrate Brooklyn! event that has and will continue to grace New York with free, quality concerts for the duration of the summer. Sure, I can nitpick. The vocals were a bit buried in the mix at the beginning and the event organizers inexplicably decided to set up rows of chairs in front of the stage, leaving little standing room for those who prefer to enjoy concerts on their feet.
But none of these things were the band’s fault and no one really seemed to care much, transfixed as they were by the supple guitar textures and exquisite feedback. The band struck a fine balance between the noise and the rock elements of its sound, playing some fan favorites but refusing to suck up to the audience (no: “Teenage Riot,” yes: “Hey Joni,” “The Sprawl,” “Catholic Block”). Many of the songs from early on in the band’s career benefited from being free of the comparatively murky production of the original recordings.
It is clear that Sonic Youth has painstakingly honed their live show over the years, yet it sounded anything but rehearsed. The songs, while instantly recognizable due to their oft-overlooked hooks and off-kilter but catchy melodies, vary significantly from the album versions.
The most notable difference, however, is the drums. On record, Steve Shelley’s drumbeats are often subsumed behind Moore and Renaldo’s dense guitar squall. Whether due to mistake or design, the drums pounded at the forefront of the mix, showcasing his precise style that gives the band its superb sense of dynamics. Given a chance to shine, Shelley demonstrated that he is a crucial ingredient in the band’s distinctive sound. It is no coincidence that he has defied the stereotype of the rotating drummer; his steady, deliberately mechanical beats anchor Moore and Renaldo’s abstract guitar playing, lending the band a sense of immediacy they would otherwise lack.
Sonic Youth is truly a collective. Moore may nominally be the frontman, but every member contributes something essential to the band’s sound. Listening to the group play live makes this clearer than the albums ever could. Each musician’s individual ego takes a backseat to the organized chaos (a cliché, I know, but it so aptly describes Sonic Youth’s sound that I can’t resist) of the greater whole. A guitar solo is not truly a solo, because it seems more like a natural extension of a song than a foregrounding of a particular instrument.
At their best, Sonic Youth imbue every song with a sense of purpose, a certain natural, organic quality that prevents even its trademark noise excursions from seeming overindulgent. Yet, despite all of these deliberate, cerebral qualities, Sonic Youth is unquestionably a rock ‘n’ roll band. Listen to “Silver Rocket” and tell me SY can’t rock out with the best of them. If anyone ever tells you that rock ‘n’ roll is inherently inferior on an artistic level to jazz and/or classical music, send them to a Sonic Youth show. If that doesn’t change their mind, nothing will.
As it turns out, Sonic Youth is just as great in middle age as the band has ever been. Critics have heaped so much praise on the band that to compliment it more is almost meaningless. Even so, I can’t find anything bad to say about the performance Saturday night at the Prospect Park Bandshell as part of the Celebrate Brooklyn! event that has and will continue to grace New York with free, quality concerts for the duration of the summer. Sure, I can nitpick. The vocals were a bit buried in the mix at the beginning and the event organizers inexplicably decided to set up rows of chairs in front of the stage, leaving little standing room for those who prefer to enjoy concerts on their feet.
But none of these things were the band’s fault and no one really seemed to care much, transfixed as they were by the supple guitar textures and exquisite feedback. The band struck a fine balance between the noise and the rock elements of its sound, playing some fan favorites but refusing to suck up to the audience (no: “Teenage Riot,” yes: “Hey Joni,” “The Sprawl,” “Catholic Block”). Many of the songs from early on in the band’s career benefited from being free of the comparatively murky production of the original recordings.
It is clear that Sonic Youth has painstakingly honed their live show over the years, yet it sounded anything but rehearsed. The songs, while instantly recognizable due to their oft-overlooked hooks and off-kilter but catchy melodies, vary significantly from the album versions.
The most notable difference, however, is the drums. On record, Steve Shelley’s drumbeats are often subsumed behind Moore and Renaldo’s dense guitar squall. Whether due to mistake or design, the drums pounded at the forefront of the mix, showcasing his precise style that gives the band its superb sense of dynamics. Given a chance to shine, Shelley demonstrated that he is a crucial ingredient in the band’s distinctive sound. It is no coincidence that he has defied the stereotype of the rotating drummer; his steady, deliberately mechanical beats anchor Moore and Renaldo’s abstract guitar playing, lending the band a sense of immediacy they would otherwise lack.
Sonic Youth is truly a collective. Moore may nominally be the frontman, but every member contributes something essential to the band’s sound. Listening to the group play live makes this clearer than the albums ever could. Each musician’s individual ego takes a backseat to the organized chaos (a cliché, I know, but it so aptly describes Sonic Youth’s sound that I can’t resist) of the greater whole. A guitar solo is not truly a solo, because it seems more like a natural extension of a song than a foregrounding of a particular instrument.
At their best, Sonic Youth imbue every song with a sense of purpose, a certain natural, organic quality that prevents even its trademark noise excursions from seeming overindulgent. Yet, despite all of these deliberate, cerebral qualities, Sonic Youth is unquestionably a rock ‘n’ roll band. Listen to “Silver Rocket” and tell me SY can’t rock out with the best of them. If anyone ever tells you that rock ‘n’ roll is inherently inferior on an artistic level to jazz and/or classical music, send them to a Sonic Youth show. If that doesn’t change their mind, nothing will.