The following is a transcript of an NME review from Sonic Youth and Mudhoney's 1989 UK tour, written by David Quantick and photographed by Jayne Houghton, from the 1st April 1989 issue. No copyright infringement is intended.
The shows took place on Friday 17th March 1989 at Riverside Newcastle and Saturday 18th March 1989 at Glasgow Strathclyde University. While we recognise that Glasgow is a little out of the catchment area of this North East Music History blog, it seemed wrong to omit the last section of the article.
Additional colour photos included here were taken at the Riverside Newcastle show by promoter Babs Johnston, used with kind permission.
SONIC YOUTH
MUDHONEY
NEWCASTLE RIVERSIDE CLUB
GLASGOW STRATHCLYDE UNIVERSITY
"Banned from the poobs! Banned from the poobs!" Thurston Moore sings this happy song in the dressing-room as he fiddles with his guitar. Lee Ranaldo's child plays with some fruit, Kim Gordon sits quietly, a monument to fun fur, and Steve Shelley lurks in his duffelcoat; Steve is probably the only duffelcoat-owning drummer in the history of American rock.
Mudhoney are soundchecking, their insidious blare almost drowned by bloody Thurston singing "Banned from the poobs!" in his weird New York/Albert Tatlock voice.
Sonic Youth and Mudhoney's tour is an infinite round of vans, signings, food, and concerts. I am lucky enough to join them at dinner in The Naked Lunch restaurant. Naturally, they go mental when they find out the name of the eatery. Thurston keeps shouting "Dharma!"
During the meal they shout at Mudhoney and ask each other and ask each other about 'Shipbuilding' as it trips from the cassette player. "Did Elvis Costello do this before the Robert Wyatt version?" asks Lee worriedly. "Or did he do it after?"
Kim belches. "That'll go in the article," predicts Thurston with some accuracy. "The bass player belched," sighs Kim.
Finally, Mudhoney have enough of being shouted at and go onstage. The audience correctly interpret this decision as a signal to shout and swear and try to get onstage too. At one point singing Mudhoney Marc (sic) reverses the process and leaps into the audience for a tumultuous few minutes.
Mudhoney are astonishing. From the dirty corners of the '70s, where the crap guitar solos live and the wah wah pedal still walks the earth, Mudhoney have extracted the essence of what was good about that music and rammed it like French fries up the scabby nostrils of hardcore.
They stand in a shaking row onstage and rock obscenely; on another planet in another galaxy, moss creatures tried to copy the Quo and Mudhoney were the result. They are dead funny and proper rock music too. The audience senses this. They shout "Ya fookun wunkahs!" and wave their fists appreciatively.
"I love those baby blue guitars," sighs Kim as Mudhoney leave the stage. In the toilet is a piece of graffiti by one of Goodbye Mr Mackenzie. Fiver or we print it!
Sonic Youth begin to look edgy. Steve Shelley becomes lost in his duffelcoat. Thurston has forgotten the words to 'Teenage Riot'. "Da da da da," he sings to himself, then discovers he has forgotten the words to the others songs too. "I love it when you make the words up," says Steve. "It really gives me faith in the band."
Onstage and rocking, Sonic Youth become even stranger. Guitars racing in and out of spaces in the songs, shouted lines of tackiness and urgency, a version of rock music tunes by moss creatures and played by people who shout, "Banned from the poobs!" at the audience, who seem puzzled.
 |
| Sonic Youth, Riverside Newcastle - photo - Babs Johnston |
 |
| Sonic Youth, Riverside Newcastle - photo - Babs Johnston |
 |
| Sonic Youth, Riverside Newcastle - photo - Babs Johnston |
'Teenage Riot', wrong words or not, wins on audience recognition; much Sonic past is not present and we have no opportunity to observe the bare bones of Sonic interplay, the rush of parts of songs as they collide and leap off again. Sonic Youth can now mimic conventional rock music like those weird flies that look like wasps; they're completely alien to rock but they just sound that way sometimes.
Now Thurston is talking to the audience, except he can't understand them. "Ya fookun wankah" roars a cack-faced youth. "Schizophrenia? Right!" agrees Thurston inaccurately. Kim lies on her back and plays the bass guitar. Finally it all ends with a version of 'Rocket' with Marc (sic) holding a guitar as Thurston "shows him the chords". Our ears are ringing but there's no one home to answer them.
 |
| Thurston Moore's Mark Arm guitar arm. |
Dressing-room fun. Mudhoney start talking about Sham 69. Thurston expresses interest in the idea that punk made crap English towns world-famous. "Hersham!" he snorts, baffled.
 |
| SonicYouth guitars at Riverside Newcastle - photo - Babs Johnston |
People come in and have their photo taken "with the band". We are invited to a party. We are so, so rock 'n' roll, that we go home.
The Hong Kong rock press are with us. Kim reveals that she lived in Hong Kong when she was 13. "Are you an adult band?" the Hong Kong journalist asks. "I'm 35," says Kim. "I don't know if I'm an adult or what," ponders Steve, "like I'm 27 now and I feel, er, 27." Bedtime all round.
The Hong Kong rock press are with us. Kim reveals that she lived in Hong Kong when she was 13. "Are you an adult band?" the Hong Kong journalist asks. "I'm 35," says Kim. "I don't know if I'm an adult or what," ponders Steve, "like I'm 27 now and I feel, er, 27." Bedtime all round.
AND IT'S tomorrow! Time to go to Glasgow. Steve sleeps late, waiting for his breakfast which never comes; even now, it wanders Newcastle, waiting for him. Thurston has bought a Quiet Sun LP. Everyone agrees that it is rubbish but it's very rare so Thurston is happy.
A long van journey ensues. Four hours of hardcore tapes also ensue. We pass by Lockerbie and Hadrian's Wall as the van fills with wild grunge and bits of music papers. Refreshed, we "hit Glasgow" and go to a record shop, where pasty-faced youths proffer records and T-shirts to be written on. Lee goes mad and empties a girl's bag and signs three old bus tickets, her diary and her cigarette lighter.
"Signing records has its own routine," explains Thurston. "You begin writing different things for each person then you give up being interesting in the middle, and you get enthusiastic again at the end."
More soundchecks, then...curry! Sonic Youth order the world and leave half of it. They insist on talking about Australia. "We like the kangas," explains Kim, and the farms where everything is the biggest. The Big Pineapple, the Big Lawn-Mower... and we went to Wagga Wagga. What a great name."
The concert tonight is larger and, being composed of many students, calmer. Mudhoney burn their way through their tunes, baby blue and hairy. "Halloween!" burbles a stude. "We call it Hallowf--ingween!" shouts Marc (sic), with some difficulty. Mudhoney depart, fame and fortune soon to be theirs. The famous and fortunate Sonic Youth follow, louder than before and still more awesome. Unfortunately, Thurston has lost his mind.
"I don't know if I can carry on," he announces to a concerned audience, "I had an onion bhaji and I think it's coming back." Bravely he soldiers on. "I'm going to see Scandal tomorrow!" he roars, "who wants to come?"
Finally, Sonic Youth crash through 'Rocket' and Thurston is overcome, his curry coursing through his veins like a drug he races offstage, presumably for a personal function.
The next day, as I leave, the staff of the Glasgow Odeon are startled to see 300 pale students queueing up for cinema tickets at three in the afternoon. Unfortunately, The Lady and The Tramp is showing instead and Sonic Youth and their fans mutate into adorable chipmunks, Steve Shelley-style. They swarm the streets of Glasgow, squeaking horribly. "Banned from the poobs!" they horribly squeak, "banned from the poobs!"
"Signing records has its own routine," explains Thurston. "You begin writing different things for each person then you give up being interesting in the middle, and you get enthusiastic again at the end."
More soundchecks, then...curry! Sonic Youth order the world and leave half of it. They insist on talking about Australia. "We like the kangas," explains Kim, and the farms where everything is the biggest. The Big Pineapple, the Big Lawn-Mower... and we went to Wagga Wagga. What a great name."
The concert tonight is larger and, being composed of many students, calmer. Mudhoney burn their way through their tunes, baby blue and hairy. "Halloween!" burbles a stude. "We call it Hallowf--ingween!" shouts Marc (sic), with some difficulty. Mudhoney depart, fame and fortune soon to be theirs. The famous and fortunate Sonic Youth follow, louder than before and still more awesome. Unfortunately, Thurston has lost his mind.
"I don't know if I can carry on," he announces to a concerned audience, "I had an onion bhaji and I think it's coming back." Bravely he soldiers on. "I'm going to see Scandal tomorrow!" he roars, "who wants to come?"
Finally, Sonic Youth crash through 'Rocket' and Thurston is overcome, his curry coursing through his veins like a drug he races offstage, presumably for a personal function.
The next day, as I leave, the staff of the Glasgow Odeon are startled to see 300 pale students queueing up for cinema tickets at three in the afternoon. Unfortunately, The Lady and The Tramp is showing instead and Sonic Youth and their fans mutate into adorable chipmunks, Steve Shelley-style. They swarm the streets of Glasgow, squeaking horribly. "Banned from the poobs!" they horribly squeak, "banned from the poobs!"
David Quantick
