Sonic Youth - EVOL (Album Review)

 

Sonic Youth - EVOL

(1986)

My copy: 2015 remastered repress by Goofin’ Records.

EVOL is the first album in a trio that is potentially one of the most famous runs in alternative music (it is followed by Sister in ‘87 then Daydream Nation in ‘88). Sonic Youth would begin to grip the proverbial handrails, toning down some of their harsher elements to focus on more engaging movements: these were still noisy songs rooted in industrial tribalism, though now with more pronounced melody and composition. 

“Tom Violence” drops in with swaying crystalline guitars and a dangerous romance in the vocals that is only tethered by the bass and drums before eroding into noise guitar. The freshened production allows for more immersive cacophonies, from siren sounds to death-rattle moans. “Shadow Of A Doubt” is a shockingly tender mesh of harmonics, with drums that build and recede like the breath of an inexperienced lover. Kim Gordan whispers nervously; wrapping listeners in her anxious desire. Tension crashes the party when Gordan breaks down and cries out in embarrassment. 

Galloping guitars chug with sliding bass before tremolo rips apart “Starpower” which is further darkened with industrial ambiance not unlike the sounds of a seedy train station. There are melodies here though they are often diseased and sigh apart into dissonance. “In The Kingdom #19” is one of the most striking spoken word pieces made for the rock format with its immensely dynamic instrumental performances that meld perfectly with the ambient noises and field samples to paint imagery of a terrible accident. Supposedly live firecrackers were detonated in the recording booth to coax genuine screams of terror from Lee Renaldo. The not-quite-melodic progressions of “Green Light” work through off-kilter rhythms to eventually build a thick wall of noise. 

While sometimes the experimenting feels aimless, the harrowing atmosphere of “Death To Our Friends” is all-encompassing before sinister arpeggios give way to a strange progression that bounces from bright to utterly discordant. Shuffling environmental clangs mimic a heartbeat on “Secret Girl” while guitars craft a textural soundtrack. The song suddenly switches to soft piano with Gordan singing, before slowly fading away. “Marilyn Moore” is an uneasy death march for the depressed, using tremolo harmonics and distortion to pave the way for dark lyrics that were partially penned by Lydia Lunch. 

“Madonna, Sean And Me” is oddly major, though this is somewhat refreshing. The cymbals twinkle under bent chords and fun melodic guitar harmonies before the song quiets itself and implodes into wailing tremolo, bordering on total collapse before reinstating the core composition. The bass goes off the beaten trail now, occasionally injecting clashing notes before returning to its root. The track finally fades to an ambient drone, with guitars slowly drifting away as the percussion attempts to cling on. The locked groove on the LP maintains a dark ambient loop endlessly. 

Sonic Youth here are restless: they are now gravitating towards more measured and calculated chaos. The songs remain twisted, winding corridors with strangely tuned guitars yet there are highly infectious grooves popping up here and there. This would be the first true step towards Daydream Nation. While many still prefer the more destructive side of Sonic Youth, I find this and Sister to stand at a powerful intersection between raw creativity and technique.