Daydream Nation by Sonic Youth
Album #62: Daydream Nation – Sonic Youth
“This is Eric’s trip, we’ve all come to watch him slip”
Sorry, I couldn’t help myself with that one.
Daydream Nation is a great record. It’s part punk, part seething chaos, part no-wave, and part catchy. It’s this sinister mix of alternate tunings, balls to the wall experimentation, and the eternal question of whether things are real or not.
Sonic Youth
Every track on this record has some aural experimentation, whether it’s making a third bridge by sticking a pencil on the guitar’s neck for a chiming effect, or changing the tuning to some discordant achordal chaos. The lyrics run the gamut from acid trips to science fiction, but it all comes together as this twitchy, full bodied, vaguely psychopathic soup of sounds to create a sonic assault.
It’s referential and intertextual and patient and always dissatisfied, the sound of a freight train crashing into a sea of LSD and watching the world disintegrate into a panorama of traumatic colors. Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon play Good Punk/Bad Punk with their vocal duties. Lee Ronaldo creates sonic annihilation with his barely melodic guitar noise.
Both literally, and figuratively, I associate with this record deeply. In my youth, which was often a battle of the real and the fake, I looked for any way to justify my continued existence. To be myself as I was, not as others wanted me to be.
I took apart guitars, I stuck drumsticks in guitar necks, I got pedals, I got e-bows, I practiced playing the wrong chords, I tuned a million different ways. This record was perpetual inspiration. I was obsessed with sounding like a dream. I was obsessed with sounding unreal. I wanted to enjoy my own trip.
This record was perpetual inspiration. I was obsessed with sounding like a dream. I was obsessed with sounding unreal. I wanted to enjoy my own trip.
Which brings me to my favorite song: “Eric’s Trip.”
This song grounded me amongst the swirling quietude chaos of my youth. I was not alone, but it penetrated more deeply into my struggle to be than any record I listened to otherwise. As I explored Taoism, Buddhism, and Hinduism in pursuit of that perfect reality, I always had this classless, effortless artistic sound of dissolution wrap itself around me. It kept me safe from that darkness until I found security and love in myself.
I hear coincidence, and apophenia, but I also hear confusion, scratched pick,s and barely concealed frustration at a lack of meaningful answers to the big question. There is cinematic grandeur, and angry dirty grime of no closure. It is the essence of humanity to push the boundaries, even when there is nothing on the other side. It’s a trip I’m now happy to be on, and, finally, I have a grip on it.
Until I put it all behind me.
