Thursday, April 03, 2003
Copyright © Las Vegas Mercury

CDVS

Perhaps in the future there will come a time when everything's been done, when every time and key has been paired and broken, when every combination of lyrics has been sung or mumbled or screeched, when all sonic possibility has been exhausted; and it all breaks down to the one simple thing that binds us all: noise. Noise--that wonderful, abrasive, pinecones-in-your-underwear riot that makes you want to grab your vital parts (just to make sure they're still there) and thank God for his benevolence in bestowing upon the world His greatest creation: the amplifier.

Until that time, though, we've got Rhode Island's dynamic duo Lightning Bolt and its new album Wonderful Rainbow--the aural equivalent of a jackhammer colonoscopy. With a bass, a kit and a pair of microphones taped over their mouths, Brian Gibson and Brian Chippendale (listed in the liner notes as "BRAINS GIBSONCHIPPENDALE") orchestrate nothing short of a head-on collision between two speeding bulldozers--the kind of viciously technical prog-rock that'll have you tapping your foot even as the blood starts pouring out of your ears. Take "Assassins," for example: a bowel-rattling masterpiece in which a squirt of feedback is quickly drowned by a tidal wave of distorted bass and blistering percussion. Or "2 Towers": a frantic improvisation that suddenly transmutes into a twisted-metal grind--all sound and fury signifying something (but what?).

Sonic Youth, on the other hand, uses noise more self-consciously--not so much as an aesthetic in itself but more as a complement to its groundbreaking form of experimental art rock. Alternating between spellbinding alterna-pop ("Kissability") and furious sound explosions ("Total Trash"), Daydream Nation toes the line between song-oriented indie rock and the post-punk avant garde.

Still, by mixing in elements of both the familiar and the fantastic, Sonic Youth manages something that escapes Lightning Bolt: an all-around listenability. Yes, Wonderful Rainbow might be a sonic juggernaut, but is it appropriate fodder for a red-eyed, cotton-mouthed morning after a night of indulgence? Hardly. Rather, it plays like the soundtrack for the apocalypse--handy to have around when you've got looting and destruction in mind but not the noise you need during that hungover 6 a.m. commute. For that, Daydream Nation fits the bill just fine.--Newt Briggs