Sure, I'll Say It: Daydream Nation Sucks.

In 1988, Sonic Youth released Daydream Nation. Any level-headed fan of rock music is supposed to love this album, but I have no idea why. Most of the songs are about two minutes too long. Four of the songs eclipse the seven-minute mark, and only one of those has a slight ounce of charm (“The Sprawl,” and that charm runs dry around the four-minute mark or whenever Kim Gordon is singing the chorus.) A majority of the songs are completely tuneless (“Silver Rocket”), boring (“Eric’s Trip”), or nearly unlistenable (“Trilogy: z) Eliminator Jr.”). I would do more of a track-by-track analysis, but that means I’d have to listen to Daydream Nation all the way through. Maybe even more than once.

So why is Daydream Nation considered to be immortal? Perhaps it’s as good as advertised, and I am simply wrong. Possible, but ultimately unlikely (and certainly not fun for discussion). Maybe this idea that the media perceives Daydream Nation to be a masterpiece is something I conjured up in my mind. Again, that’s not it. Just ask All Tomorrow’s Parties and Michael Azerrad. Or better yet, read every review ever done by a respectable music outlet that gives it a damn near perfect rating. But there is a theory that I think ultimately works, and here it is.

If your college experience was at all similar to mine, perhaps you once found yourself in a dorm room with a group of people, and someone brought up the idea to turn out the lights and watch 2001: A Space Odyssey. It seemed like a good idea. You all had plenty of beer, there weren’t many girls around (or at least, let’s hope not), and it’s allegedly one of the greatest movies ever made (not to mention directed by Stanley Kubrick). There’s only one problem: the movie is awful. Oh, sure, I guess it was ahead of its time, and probably broke some sort of new ground. Whatever. You start watching the movie, and it’s only a tad longer than two hours, but you could swear it lasts the entire semester. You get about ten minutes into that scene where the astronaut is just floating around and you’re hoping to God he just spontaneously combusts, followed by credits, or that one of your friends has the stones to do what no one else does, which is get up, and turn the movie off. You see, I’m not sure people really like 2001: A Space Odyssey. They just feel like they should like it. Similar to some self-loathing American who claims to enjoy soccer, they’re watching the movie so they can hopefully find themselves at a dinner party in the near future and discuss it intelligently. Well, Daydream Nation is the musical equivalent to 2001: A Space Odyssey. That’s what’s going on here.

Now, in the interest of fairness, allow me to reconcile a couple of things: First, the album doesn’t actually “suck” in the literal sense of the word. It’s actually just “okay.” But it does suck when you compare its merits versus the heaps of praise that has been levied on it from every direction for the last 20 years.

Second, “Teenage Riot” is one of my favorite songs ever, and one of my favorite “Track 1’s” ever. The song is amazing, but so what. We’re talking the entire album here. They kicked off Daydream Nation with a face-melter to serve as a nice piece of subterfuge. Smart idea, but hardly novel.

Third, I was only nine-years-old when this album was released by Enigma in 1988, and Sonic Youth was nowhere near my radar. Ozzie Smith was. Therefore, maybe I just don’t “get it.” I first listened to Sonic Youth early in high school when I got Goo through some horrible Columbia House deal. (I’m sure I still owe Columbia House money, even though they had to be aware deep down they were ripping me off, and ripping off every naïve 14-year-old in America.) If 15 years from now some snot-nosed kid born in the 90’s is shitting on Chutes Too Narrow, I would probably call him a moron and play the, “You weren’t there, man,” card. But, be that as it may, there are plenty of records on my shelf circa 1988 that have aged much better than Daydream Nation. If the reverb-heavy vocals on Galaxie 500’s On Fire is like fine wine, then the incoherent noise that makes up 1/3 of Daydream Nation is Carlo Rossi. Furthermore, there are plenty of people young enough to be the offspring of Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon who strut around and claim Daydream Nation is amazing. Certainly I’m entitled to do the exact opposite.

Fourth, as some may know, the very first post on this site (before I knew how to use commas) had me at the 2007 Pitchfork Music Festival all excited about seeing Sonic Youth playing Daydream Nation in its entirety. So how do I now explain this? Simple. I hadn’t realized how much the album bored me yet. I was still trying to convince myself that I liked it (see paragraph that explains the 2001: A Space Odyssey paradox). That could sound shallow. The idea that I was trying to convince myself to like a record because I had been told I should. But it’s not really like that. I’m usually more trustworthy than skeptical when I hear about a record or a band that is supposed to be essential. Whenever a friend or a trusted media source tells me I will like a record, guess what? I usually do. If things don’t click right away, I’ll keep at it. Usually, I’ll come around. Sometimes I won’t and I’ll bail. I bailed on Daydream Nation not long after that 2007 festival. And if you read what I wrote, I didn’t actually stay and watch the whole set. Half-way through I drifted to the back of the park and just laid down and listened/napped. Does that matter? Maybe. I know I wasn’t thinking about leaving the stage when Slint was playing Spiderland. Fine. But what about when I wrote this: “Laying in the grass in Union Park watching Sonic Youth close out Daydream Nation was an experience that won’t be soon forgotten.” Overkill. Looking back, what I really meant was, “Man, I’m about to embark on a weekend filled with live music. And, some of my friends that I haven’t seen in awhile will be arriving tomorrow. I’m excited.” The actual music was inconsequential to the scene. Replace Sonic Youth and Daydream Nation with Pearl Jam and Binaural and things wouldn’t have been much different.

So does this mean Sonic Youth is a bad band? Of course not. They are a very good band, with a couple of great records (Goo and Dirty come to mind). I just don’t think Daydream Nation is one of them. As to why I am thinking of this now, I don’t know. It’s not like Daydream Nation is celebrating a seminal anniversary anytime soon. I guess it will be old enough to buy a case of Budweiser come October, but that’s about it. (This was originally going to be an “Everyone Has One…,” piece but 1,300 words later, I realized it had to be its own beast.) So, here I guess is my point: Your friends, and even rock critics, usually know what’s best for you. They really do. But not always, and the final arbiter on whether or not a record is great is you. And even more importantly, I’m writing this so the next time you’re at a party, and someone slides in Daydream Nation, be the guy with the stones that casually turns it off. Oh, sure, people will throw you unbelievable looks of disdain, but deep down, they’ll love you for it.

--Alex