Thurston Moore – Demolished Thoughts
May 24th, 2011
Matador
Score: 8.1
Demolished Thoughts plays out like a waking dream gently floating over a misty dawn. The soft vocals, strumming guitar, and lonely violin weave warm cobwebs between the speakers, patiently luxuriating in the details. The first three songs are the highlights of the entire record. ‘Benediction’ unravels like a prayer barely whispered to one’s self. — it’s the promise of a love song, with an emphasis on longing that is ever-so-wary of the potential for loss. The guitar and violin bounce the lead between instruments like a healthy give-and-take between lovers while Moore’s voice is tender and true as though he’s singing for himself and no one else.
‘Benediction’ moves into ‘Illuminine’ in the way that a meditation might fall into an obsession. The guitar takes on a more defined purpose while the violin comes in surges to shoulder the weight of the chorus. Moore’s vocals now take on the quality of a stage whisper — subdued and yet confident and fully supported. The greatest strength is the interlude when the fingerpicked guitar and violin evoke the image of ticking clocks counting time away.
The third song, ‘Circulation’, is the album’s greatest triumph. While maintaining the intimate quality of the previous tracks, this one is also a powerhouse. The tempo picks up, reflecting an accelerated circulation, and the ominous harmonies of the chorus are instantly captivating. The number takes on significant sonic and emotional depth as dissonant stretches, noise, and melodic interludes merge into one inseparable marriage. The lyrics flow like a parable hinting at the power of music to disguise or abet escape.
After this incredibly solid first third, we enter a sprawling musical landscape that is easy to get lost in. I don’t find myself craving ‘Blood Never Lies’ or ‘Orchard Street’ but that’s no fault of the composition. They feel like satisfying pathways toward greater vistas. The occasional bass outbursts of ‘Orchard Street’, for example, ground the proceedings while motoring further.
Meanwhile, ‘In Silver Rain With A Paper Key’ is a haunting cacophony conceiving a tranquility that automatically soothes and disarms. Repeatedly, on this song, pleasing sounds are juxtaposed over one another resulting in the heightening of each strata. Here, a wide array of textures fill in the sonic cracks for a density that would be overbearing were it not for the warmth of all components.
‘Space’ unravels slowly, showcasing instrumental experimentation wrought with emotion. A series of musical flourishes inhabit the guitar line as it prods precariously through increasingly alien territory. There are enough familiar artifacts from home for us to keep our bearings, and yet the whole setting feels fittingly extra-terrestrial. Harps and violins create naked, ambient moods often sheathed in feedback and distortion. Finally, ‘January’ concludes everything with a superb, delicate outro that leaves the listener as if a deep sleep has been suddenly interrupted and it takes a moment to re-acclimatize to the day.
Beck, who is also credited with some additional arrangements, produced the album and there is a noticeable similarity between this and Beck’s Sea Change yet, as a producer, Beck doesn’t overlay his own aesthetic too heavily over Moore’s songs. Rather, it sounds like everything was done to support the songs’ breathing on their own. Demolished Thoughts is a very private affair, much like listening in on an artist working on the other side of thin apartment walls. It’s warm, moving, and immensely satisfying.
Jeremy Schaefer