First, I love Demolished Thoughts. I feel like I’m getting to that age where I’m comfortable enjoying albums by my ’90s heroes unapologetically, despite knowing in my rational mind that they’re sad imitations of their Great Works. To me, Demolished Thoughts is a great Sunday morning album, and last I checked, there are lots of Sunday mornings where that brand of acoustic strum is absolutely necessary.
Last night’s show was also very good in that way Thurston Moore shows are good: he’s this dopey manchild with a real thirst for knowledge. He’s pretentious to a fault and last night was no exception. The interstitial poems I could’ve done without, but by the same token, his hilariously overwrought poetry took me back to the place when I first started listening to Sonic Youth. His brand of dorky paternalism, i.e. the “I, character in this song, will protect you, afflicted putatively female character of song, from these dumb jock miscreants.” It’s cute in this totally hackneyed I‑can-still-regurgitate-assorted-gender-studies-talking-points sort of way. I mean, I remember the ’90s, too, and sometimes I’m embarrassed for how I acted then. I think Thurston feels this way, too.
When it was over I was mostly saddened that he played “Benediction” without mentioning Jack Rose, for whom the song is supposedly written. Maybe I can blame Byron Coley for the bad poetry.