Ciccone Youth
The Whitey Album

THE REVIEW

Throughout his life, Thomas Mann always kept alive a "mischievous" novel (Confessions of the Confidence-Man Felix Krull) without ever really finishing it, which accompanied him until his death, so much so that it was published posthumously, not definitively concluded. Parallel to his more famous writings, he carried this on as if he used it for relief from the other things he produced, a vent, a place to regenerate and distract himself from the heavy atmospheres of himself and his works.

That's exactly the impression the Ciccone Youth album (+ Mike Watts, my goodness!) gives me about Sonic Youth, a "playful" distraction compared to their previous works, and even if they always maintain their fierce presence, I sense a grounding of a noise vanity that has reached a point of no return: "Well yeah, let's not take ourselves too seriously instead of pondering sound abysses, let's completely abandon the belief that we can do something, and we convey this awareness that 'everything happens' through the mole on the face of the self-declared tumble... and let's enjoy this espresso."

The result is that with the "white album," Sonic Youth has produced a compilation of new pieces under a pseudonym that resets our perception of the group (are they truly Madonna fans?!?) where they scan their previous production and revere not just Madonna, but various underground genres, sparing Sean Penn this time... And even if it was released later, they first "flow virginal" before a work like "Daydream Nation," an album where they confess the menarche with the mayors: well, indeed, the virtue of a "Bad Moon Rising" cannot be disintegrated with anything, sonic chastity...

And that impossible title of Carmelo Bene's autobiography "Sono apparso alla Madonna" seals the "Whitey Album" and marks the change of Era for our troublemakers: it is the last unexpected album of Sonic Youth. The tracks flow by force of inertia, here is the diversion, here is the relaxation of the band that by appearing to the invisible surpasses the fatigue of demonstrating their bizarre presence. The dogma is reversed. "Distortion" is a means, no longer the goal!

The tracks glide in surplace between noise, pop, industrial, rock, silence, dance... The debatable Louise Veronica is revisited unconsciously rejoicing: blessed "youth." Yes, I like Madonna for those two covers there. Not to mention Kim Gordon who, in the remake of "Addicted to Love" karaoke style, nullifies the machista universe and flips the roles' pancake by proposing in her video the "Disposable Soldiers" + phallic guitar instead of the latex-object women in Palmer's video. And the spoken piece "two cool rock chicks..." with Neu! background is the apotheosis of their revisionism, they observe masked as "Who's that girl(s)?" the transformation with astronomical detachment.

We are in '89, far from the erotic-new Age skid of the buxom one, the revisitation is on two genuine pieces like Burnin'g Up & Into the Groove(y) that, after the manipulation that tears the veil of Maya, appear blinding. The cover enchants with Madonna who seems to tell us "I will give you everything (just don't ask me anything...)" but it's the "noisy youngsters" who actually give us everything without any second thoughts.

And so we have a neat work, recreation, snack time, a pure playful manifestation: here is the "restless adolescence" necessary to launch oneself towards a healthy youth. Sure, the "Ciccone," as an alter ego, maintain an ear-corkscrew imprint but the Om is comforting, remaining fierce. The game is tough and we like it that way.

"Let yourself be overwhelmed by the rhythm... YOU MUST!"
Without a barcode, my copy...