Her quietly lacerating and laconic wit, her intensity couched in a mellow, demure poise, her aloof but engaged intelligence and killer personal style have made her an avatar for countless artists and fans. Simply put, Kim Gordon is the coolest. Everyone knows this. On her new record, The Collective, the 70 year old artist takes a hard turn into noisy, dirge-y electronics that, more than anything, sounds like the darker end of modern Soundcloud rap.
A rock elder mixing up their decades-old trademark with a trendy style is the kind of late-career gambit that usually ends in an artistic faceplant. The Collective, however, is a triumph. Gordon, true to form, makes it work precisely by avoiding any hint of trend chasing. Her signature yowl is in full force, as is the intimidating semi whispered speech-singing that elevated songs like “Shadow of a Doubt” and “Teenage Riot.” More-than-casual fans will hear an echo of The Collective in Sonic Youth’s alter ego Ciccone Youth, particularly their are-they-kidding cover of Robert Palmer’s “Addicted to Love.” Gordon is a master of the elusive wink, letting you know she knows exactly what’s up while never quite letting you in on the secret.
Even considering such precedents, The Collective sounds fully fresh. Some of the beats, for one, were originally produced for Playboi Carti. And Gordon’s vocals are as confident as ever, with a hint of menace behind her conversational lyrics. Reading the words to “I’m a Man,” one of the album’s early singles, the printed words come off a bit rambly. “Pass me a black napkin, please / Dropped out of college, don't have a degree / And I can't get a date / It's not my fault! / I'm not bringing home the juice / I'm not bringing home the bacon.” But listen to her delivery, especially when she intones “It’s good enough for Nancy,” and her power is undeniable.
In retrospect, it makes perfect sense. Sonic Youth always blended violent timbres, erotic imagery and elliptical delivery, collaging disparate ideas into works that felt both raw and endlessly evocative. It’s no surprise that Gordon, on “BYE BYE,” can make reciting a packing list feel like an exercise in depth psychology.
In 1988, Gordon published an excerpt of her tour diary in The Village Voice, titled Boys Are Smelly.
“Before picking up a bass I was just another girl with a fantasy. What would it be like to be right under the pinnacle of energy, beneath two guys crossing their guitars, two thunderfoxes in the throes of self-love and male bonding? How sick, but what desire could be more ordinary? How many grannies once wanted to rub their faces in Elvis’s crotch, and how many boys want to be whipped by Steve Albini’s guitar?”
Now a senior citizen, she seems in no hurry to give up the unfiltered creative energy or the sexuality that has continuously animated her work. She continues:
“The most heightened state of being female is watching people watch you. Manipulating that state, without breaking the spell of performing, is what makes someone like Madonna all the more brilliant. Simple pop structures sustain her image, allowing her real self to remain a mystery —is she really that sexy? Loud dissonance and blurred melody create their own ambiguity — are we really that violent? — a context that allows me to be anonymous… the swirl of Sonic Youth music makes me forget about being a girl. I like being in a weak position and making it strong.”
Knockdown Center is proud to host Kim Gordon on March 23rd, as well as a collective of artists she has personally invited, all of whom extend her singular legacy: Kelsey Lu, L’Rain, Circuit des Yeux, Gordon’s frequent collaborator Bill Nace, and many more,