The most overlooked Sonic Youth songs, according to Thurston Moore
It’s not uncommon for musicians to prefer their lesser-known tracks. In fact, it’s more common for them to appreciate these, as they often hold deeper meaning and feature structures that are free from the confines of expectation or convention. A musician’s hits are usually the gateways into their broader discography, which, when looking at Sonic Youth as a case study, seems particularly on point.
The broader story of Sonic Youth seems considerably similar to most noise rock bands that emerged at the time. While they left behind several more popular or more accessible tracks, deeper appreciation stems from the overlooked tracks where their experimentalism is particularly prominent. Many of these are considered more representative of their artistic identity, spotlighting their ability to push boundaries.
The thing about Sonic Youth, however, was that they never really fit the mould when it came to “making” it in the same way mainstream acts did, and while many musicians appreciated their authenticity and audacity, it means that many often tried to make them out to be something they weren’t, which either endeared more to their craft or pushed people away.
For instance, in an era when most pop hits were churned out for MTV broadcasting or extensive radio play, Sonic Youth bit back with records like Daydream Nation, offering a way out of the constant overstimulation of music that pierced the ears without really saying that much. In other words, Sonic Youth played their own game and invited others to do the same, regardless of how that translated.
For Thurston Moore, however, this game had its challenges and often meant that many of his favourite songs got lost by the wayside. While this is natural and leaves room for more loyal fans to stumble upon sonic gems, it comes with its own flavour of disdain, especially when the songs hold more nuances or greater, more impactful meaning.
According to Moore, the two songs that got lost in the haze were ‘Mariah Carey and the Arthur Doyle Hand Cream’ and ‘Helen Lundeberg’. Though nowhere near the enthusiasm of ‘Kool Thing’ or ‘Incinerate’, these two stemmed from more creative foundations, with the former emerging from an extended jam and the latter coming together after feeling inspired by a painter.
“Usually, the singer would bring in their own lyrics — if I sang, they were my lyrics; if Kim sang, they were hers — but this situation, we actually bounced lines off of each other, which was fun,” he told Vulture of ‘Mariah Carey and the Arthur Doyle Hand Cream. “We never really did that before. It was based on reading about Mariah Carey having a bit of trouble with her record label that day.”
With ‘Helen Lundeberg’, Moore repurposed several lines from a dissertation about the painter he admired, using the words to string together a more thought-provoking, conceptual reading about why he became so endeared. He also “cut up” a poem for the B-side, ‘Eyeliner’, allowing his inspiration to extend beyond the confines of writing just one composition about someone he found particularly intriguing.
However, Moore also recognises that these songs are rarely heard or appreciated for what they are, leaving them entirely overshadowed, even though they mean the most. As he put it: “I would say they’re my two favourite songs we ever wrote, but nobody knows about them.”
