Sonic Youth
SYR 2

THE REVIEW

In Naples, skipping school is called "Filone," and I have fond memories of my "filoni." Those in middle school ended up in a pool, those in the first years of high school took advantage of the convenient geographical location (halfway between a pusher and the community field), and those in the last years, if they didn't drown in bed, ended up in Vomero, the small-bourgeois planet of the Neapolitan galaxy. Of all the shops in Vomero, the only attractive one is an encyclopedia of tech-cultural stuff that goes by the name of F*** (no, it’s not called Fica).

On a carefree morning, I decided to boycott the natural order of things...ENOUGH. No produce - consume - die... just produce - screw - then we'll see.

And so it was: I tore the plastic, took the disc leaving the cover in its place, and tucked it into a book in my bag. I walked with the air of a well-behaved boy with a relaxed demeanor, then out again into the morning.

At first listen, it was lucky it's free. By the second listen, it became I would have even spent 5 euros.

Today, though, it's like these damn Sonic Youth, in 28 minutes and 39 seconds, eat and shit out all the little bands that play Post-Rock. Voracious beasts indeed, Tyrannosaurus of rock...where they pass, no one else can follow.

But something still isn't clear: is it the swirl of phase and delay or the drummer's prancing and epileptic stride causing such hunger? Is it the feedback amongst the nettles or Kim Gordon's plum-flavored voice (but also the album cover) that causes such evacuations? ...WHO KNOWS.

It might be everything and the opposite of everything, but for me this album (SYR, 1997) is quite fun. A solid three stars, the kind where you say... well, yes. The beauty is in the little things, and I love and take everything beyond measure... but considering that the taste of free has no price and that of subverting (at least one hopes) is priceless, a four can definitely fit in, and indeed it does.