Goodbye 20th Century (Syr 4) [feat. William Winant, Jim O'Rourke, Takehisa Kosugi, Christian Wolff, Coco Hayley Gordon Moore, Christian Marclay & Wharton Tiers]

Based on the players, the title, and the time of its release, one might expect Sonic Youth's Goodbye 20th Century to be the band's cataclysmic soundtrack to the Last Times. Failing this vast millenarianism, we might at least expect a new Daydream Nation to capture the fin de siecle as that earlier album had lent words and noise to the wane of the Reagan years. Goodbye 20th Century, the fourth release in the "SYR Musical Perspectives" series, is no such thing. In fact, rather than apocalyptic, the somber dissonance on Goodbye waxes somewhat elegiac. The album offers very little by way of grand proclamations; Goodbye 20th Century is very much about listening: listening to the composers, listening to the past, listening to one another.

Although much more turbulent than the distant electric storms of the series' last release, the ethereal Invito al Cielo, Goodbye 20th Century conjures similar alchemies of cacophony and serenity. But the new album has less to do with free improv extensions of SYR3. Rather, we hear the band (boasting an impressive roster of guests) interpreting the work of past masters. Along with more renowned modern composers like John Cage, Steve Reich and Pauline Oliveros, Sonic Youth & Co. play pieces by Stockhausen protégé Cornelius Cardrew, experimental violinist Takehisha Kosugi (who performs on the album), and atonal-chromaticist James Tenney. Sonic Youth is joined again by Jim O'Rourke, along with New York downtown turntablist Christian Marclay, composer Christian Wolff (who also contributes a piece), percussionist William Winant, and longtime Sonic Youth producer Wharton Tiers.

Goodbye 20th Century-- over a hundred minutes in length-- rewards the patient, and will confound those fans still holding out for another EVOL. But those who criticize the late-90s Sonic Youth for straying far from its art-punk, no-wave roots would level criticism at the band for trying to pull off another edgy, noisy Sister in the 18th year of their career. To their credit, Sonic Youth has not made any last ditch attempt to conform to any estimations of what they should be doing. Goodbye 20th Century is not a renunciation of their post-punk roots, but rather a tribute to those more difficult influences that have always been present in their music-- aside from the chosen compositions, one could make out the presence of Coltrane, Cecil Taylor and Glenn Branca as well as Varese. Nor could one accuse Sonic Youth of parading this wide array of distinguished composers and players in front of the listener only to position themselves as masters and inheritors of the 20th century new classical tradition. If anything, Goodbye 20th Century is an album of humility, displaying devotion and awe on the part of the musicians for the sheer possibility coded into the compositions.

The half-hour-long interpretation of John Cage's 1992 composition "Four6" stands at the heart of the two-disc set, and best exemplifies the work's aesthetic of entwined beauty and monstrosity. Other highlights include "Six for a New Time," a piece that Pauline Oliveros composed specifically for the occasion, and James Tenney's "Having Never Written a Note for Percussion," an uprising of droning guitar under the direction of Jim O'Rourke.

But let's not kid ourselves. Goodbye 20th Century is difficult music: music that is not supposed to be enjoyed so much as to be endured. To purchase this album is to purchase over an hour-and-a-half of some of the most abrasive noise imaginable outside of an industrial factory setting. And you must find what's beautiful. This is perhaps why I have found the SYR series so engaging-- because the experience of listening to these releases amounts to a considerable amount of introspection: you must rethink your categories every minute, you must continuously reassess the boundaries of music and noise, structure and disorder. But if all you hear is dissonance and feedback and Kim Gordon's hot, ghostly musings, you're not listening.