Thank God for Sonic Youth

Sonic Youth is still ever so relevant within the world of music. Thank God! With only flickers of promising hope from young musicians, one is always prone to retreat to familiar and sublime melodies. That being said, I was so happy to say yes to an invite to hear the band’s new album, The Eternal, out June 9 on Matador Records. Coincidentally, my best friend — the lovely and always chic Miss Kristin Vincent — hosted the listening party at her Lower East Side bar, Home Sweet Home — submerged within the confines of the building’s basement, speakeasy style.

Thurston Moore’s visual skills as a painter complemented the party; above Home Sweet Home sits Envoy gallery, where Thurston’s art opening took place simultaneously throughout the evening. Lo and behold, I found myself popping up and down the secret stairwell between Home Sweet Home and Envoy, drinking vodka tonics and gabbing away with Kristin. By the way, drinks were free courtesy of Kristin, and I didn’t need that quintessential neon-colored wristband. Quite nice to have those kinds of friends, though I could hardly hear the band’s new album. Way too noisy.

Across the room, a sexy blond caught my eye. No, it wasn’t Kim Gordon just yet, but Marc Jacobs’ Swedish publicist Asa Larsson. We’ve met countless times, yet for whatever reason we’ve never been able to remember each other’s names. I told her I was to interview Maja from The Sounds, also from Sweden, soon. She suddenly burst out, “Oh, I looovvvveeee Maja, we’re going to dress her for one of The Sounds’ shows! You have to email me your interview.” Hence why I now know her name — that business card she passed along with email and name intact certainly did the trick.

Kim, with her daughter Coco in tow, finally arrived. I hadn’t seen nor spoken to Kim in over a year, but we did get a chance to briefly say hello. I asked if she’s ever been to Home Sweet Home. “Well, I don’t really hang out in bars much anymore — it’s cool though.”

While leaving the fête, I spotted friend-of-the-band Mr. Vincent Gallo talking to pals outside. Probably fresh off doing something Tetro-related (that new Francis Ford Coppola film in which he stars). No chit-chat with Vincent though.

I was disappointed about not properly hearing the album, but I felt better knowing its sounds would arrive in my email inbox the next day. Sure enough, it did not disappoint. My favorite track — the last one, “Massage the History” — oozes a spacey and cerebral reverberation, shimmering with guitar murmurs. The whole album knocks it out of the park. Thank God indeed.
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