If one band has schooled the indie rock world in feminism and egalitarianism, it's Sonic Youth.
The band, which has for 23 years featured couple Thurston Moore, 46, and Kim Gordon, 51, next week releases Sonic Nurse, its 19th studio album.
Sonic Youth was one of several early 1980s bands (X was another) that showed the kids how cool it was to collaborate with your mate. Guys realized it could be just as rewarding to have your girlfriend in the band, not just watching the band.
Your gal could, if she had the chops, strap on a guitar and play along with you. It wasn't threatening. It wasn't silly. It could be fun and sexy and, sometimes, as in the case of Sonic Youth, the tunes were awesome.
In SY's case, Gordon was always a respected member of the band. She was a Los Angeles painter and designer before grabbing a bass in 1981 and hooking up with Manhattan guitarists Moore and Lee Ranaldo.
From the get-go, SY was obsessed with pop culture - especially with the women of pop culture.
Gordon's lyrical celebrations and rants about Madonna, Squeaky Fromme and Karen Carpenter were entertaining and eye-opening. The band also delved into prickly terrain, singing about sexual harassment on Swimsuit Issue and addressing the Anita Hill-Clarence Thomas hearings when they were going down on Youth Against Fascism. SY addresses women's body image on many tunes.
In one hilarious outing exploring sexism in music, Gordon goes head-to-head in a "duet" with Chuck D. of Public Enemy on Kool Thing (1990). Gordon plays the part of a hip-hop fan asking her idol, "Are you gonna liberate us girls from male white corporate aggression?"
To which the disinterested rap star (in reality, Chuck D. is a political activist) responds in vapid slogans, "Word up! Tell it like it is!"
Moore and Gordon eventually went from boyfriend-girlfriend to married couple to couple with child. Their daughter, Coco, is 9.
The feminist world has long championed Gordon and the band for their egalitarian ways. Gordon recently discussed SY's new album with Bust, the edgy feminist publication.
Gordon also talked about raising Coco. She said she fears that her daughter is about to give up all of her imaginary play and enter the age when girls start to become preoccupied with looks and their bodies.
Which made me think about Gordon's lyrics. So much of her songwriting is imaginary play, scenarios that she makes up, imaginations of life in somebody else's shoes. Like 1990's Tunic (Song for Karen), a song speculating what it was like for the anorexic Carpenter to obsessively monitor every morsel of food she ate.
Sonic Nurse is a vital album, filled with SY's experimental musical mayhem and, naturally, more references to pop culture. The album's cover and back photo are gorgeous paintings by contemporary artist Richard Prince, from his acclaimed "Nurse Painting" series.
The band's fixations this time around include the perplexing persona of Mariah Carey, the war in Iraq and the curious role of nurses in our culture (hear Dude Ranch Nurse, inspired by Prince's series).
Gordon's throaty singing grabs you on the manic Pattern Recognition. The song is a tumultuous romp of splintery guitars, slinky bass and drums. Gordon screams, "You're the one!" like a disillusioned, love-starved teen.
Later, she breathlessly coos, "Can you sell me yesterday's girl?" The song, all about mass marketing, questions what our culture will mindlessly eat up from the media and the music labels.
Peace Attack finds the famously antiwar band skewering the Bush administration. Moore sings "Springtime is wartime" over delicate guitar lines and drummer Steve Shelley's steady pummeling.
The pressing of the album I was sent features a tune called Kim Gordon and the Arthur Doyle Hand Cream, but I understand the song's actual title is, or was, Mariah Carey and the Arthur Doyle Hand Cream. Gordon wonders about the life of Carey, who suffered a very public nervous breakdown a few years ago.
Gordon cites specific events in Carey's life, including a Larry King interview in which the star said, in a foreshadowing moment, that she was tired, and a dish-breaking incident in which Carey cut herself.
A sympathetic Gordon chides Carey's record label, singing to the star, "Button up, baby, you've come undone."
She goes on, like Florence Nightingale, or a sonic nurse, advising Carey to get out of the picture, relax and take a bubble bath.
"Maybe you need an emo boy," Gordon sings, suggesting that the stressed-out diva find a sensitive punk rock boy to run around with.
Sound crazy?
Hey, Gordon speaks from experience. She's still, more than 20 years later, running around with her own punk rock boy. For that, SY fans around the globe are grateful.
- Gina Vivinetto can be reached at 727 893-8565 or gina@sptimes.com
