Washing Machine
Sonic Youth
DGC, 1995
Reviewed by Patrick
Kastner
By
1995, Sonic Youth had become something of a household name, thanks to bands such as
Nirvana and Pearl Jam naming them as major influences and citing monoliths like EVOL,
Sister and Daydream Nation as scripture. But the band would have nothing to
do with being just musty records on some hot band's shelf. The group's first releases of
the decade, the propulsive Goo and Dirty, kept them relevant.
It
was not until 1994's Experimental, Trash, Jet Set and No Star that Sonic Youth's
formula seemed in real danger of going stagnant. Things were changing for Sonic Youth the
people. Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon became parents and the whole band was, by then, well
into its 30s.
Enter Washing Machine. Generally overlooked at the time of its release, the album
is Sonic Youth's best of the decade. It marked a watershed for the band. While the
abrasiveness, odd time signatures and dissonant sounds of the band's previous albums
weren't completely discarded, they were tempered with slower tempos and at times, almost
soothing melody.
While the album's opening tracks, "Becuz" and "Junkie's Promise,"
lurch forward like Sonic Youth of old, a change occurs on the atmospheric
"Saucer-like," with melody replacing the dissonance and guitarist/singer Moore
providing pleasant lead vocals.
The title track itself is a microcosm for the band's transformation. What begins as a
Gordon rant, ends in a ethereal guitar jam some nine minutes later. But that's just hint
of things to come. The real shock is the nearly 20-minute album closer, "The Diamond
Sea."
Essentially a valentine from Moore to Gordon, "The Diamond Sea" is a metaphor
for marriage. Imagine what DIY indie rockers must have thought when they heard ol'
Thurston singing, "Look into his eyes and you will see / that men are not alone on
the diamond sea. / Sail into your heart of a lonely storm / And tell her you'll love her
eternally."
Although, I'm sure any fears of commercialism were drowned by Moore and guitarist Lee
Renaldo's masterful guitar workout that follows. The two build slowly and steadily into a
frenzy of feedback that will pin you to your seat, making the song among the best work the
band has ever done. But it's all done in a fairly sedate manner, slowly bringing you back
to the melody for more of Thurston's musings before ending with piercing guitar notes
resonating in your very soul.
And that's the thing about Washing Machine. Sonic Youth was maturing and slowing
down, but not without a fight. Gordon's wistful paean to girl groups, "Little Trouble
Girl," is followed up by the corrosive "No Queen Blues" (about Courtney?),
and the riot grrrl anthem, "Panty Lies."
But there would be no going back for the band. After Washing Machine, the band
really went into alien territory, performing at black tie Composers of the 20th
Century-type events and releasing elegant, if not accessible EPs under their own record
label, SYR recordings. Their 1998 effort, A Thousand Leaves, even features some
songs that could be called pop. Who would have thunk it 10 years ago? All of this makes Washing
Machine an important document, rejuvenating this crucial band for years to come.
