I’m kind of glad I am unemployed right now and my only way of getting music is groveling for shit from people with record labels or stealing it off the internet*. Because honestly, there are a lot of records that have come out that I just don’t care about after hearing them. This is the case with the new Thurston Moore album Demolished Thoughts. I grabbed this off the netz last night and stuck it on my ipod and listened to it while I started Choosing Death:The Unlikely History of Death Metal and Grindcore. I had already had some reservations about this, another solo album from the Dr. of Cool. I’d read too much about it and it just sounded like it was going to be boring.
And it is, a terribly boring record. It’s the kind of record you can put on at night while reading and totally ignore. There are moments when Moore utilizes the Sonic Youth aesthetic, but honestly, I don’t want the same old Sonic Youth aesthetic anymore. I didn’t realize I didn’t want that until there was some off-tune grinding drop in one of the songs. I am not going back for a listen to find out what song, because I am that uninterested. But basically, if you remember that song “Winner’s Blues” from like 1994 that opened the half-hearted Experimental, Jet Set, Trash and No Star, then you know what this album sounds like. Seriously.
So maybe, in the 1990’s I would have welcomed this album. Perhaps since then I have even been waiting for this album. But he released the more jangly, electric Psychic Hearts in 1995 and maybe that should have been enough for the high-profile, solo albums. But all these front men, trying to get all chill on the acoustic guitar while failing to do anything remotely interesting or write songs outside of their comfort zone is just getting old. And when your Thurston Moore, the epitome of cool eternal, and despite the lines etched on your face, never seem to get old, this record shows your age.
The tricks seem to be all dried up. That’s how I feel. Add this to the pile of Chuck Regan, Tim Barry and who ever else put out an acoustic album that just sounds like a mild version of what they already do. This is not the same, stark contrast that we got on J Mascis’s Several Shades of Why. It’s just Sonic Youth Lite. And It’s less filling and less satisfying.
*Dear Matador Records. One, I bought the overly expensive David Comes to Life By Now Get Now or whatever you call it. So don’t act like I don’t give you money and shit. That was $42 dollars my unemployed ass doesn’t have. So don’t get bent out of shape because I didn’t buy this. I was never going to buy it, but I was curious. Also, don’t get bent out of shape about this bad review. It’s THURSTON FUCKING MOORE. I think we’ll be okay. TWO, besides, the review I will give of David Comes to Life will make you cum in your pants with joy. Send me my seven inches.