Rainbow resin, sticky cyclone

Thurston Moore - "Fri/Emd"

Even when he's very much mellowed, Thurston Moore seems entirely disinterested in fully shaking off what's been at the center of his quarter-century career: the most cacophonous yet masterful guitar work this side of Glenn Branca. There's no reason for the 11 seconds of guitar squeals and white noise that begin--and have nothing to do with--this subdued, velvety song, except maybe to remind us that even though Trees Outside the Academy, Moore's first solo effort in 12 years, plays like a placid complement to Sonic Youth's recent albums, it could erupt into discord and histrionics at any point. But, you know, only if he feels like it.

"Stripped-down," "mature," and "moodily reflective" are often pretty cozy bedfellows, but this acoustic-guitar-and-fiddle affair deserves only the first label: Moore, who at 48 looks half that age, prefers to concoct his fantasias--in this case, about a romance that is both drug-fueled and consummate--with wide eyes, a youthful heart, and not an ounce of nostalgia. Truth be told, I've never thought of Moore as an excellent songwriter; I enjoyed Sonic Youth for its experimentalism. I'm sure I'm not alone there, but "Fri/Emd," and the bulk of Trees Outside the Academy, puts my impulse to shame.