Expressway to Yr. Skull - Sonic Youth (1986)

the other night i was hanging out at a friend's apartment on mission doing one of my favorite things to do past midnight: getting stoned and listening to rock & roll. most of the guys there listen to really solid stuff and, considering how baked i was, most records they'd throw on on any given day would make me lean back, close my eyes, and cry rainbows of happiness in my mind at the bliss pounding my face from tower speakers.

this particular night, we were listening to Sonic Youth's third studio album, Evol, while a couple guys played some awesome zombie-killing video game on the tv. i was definitely feeling the album as a whole (and definitely downloaded it right after i went home), but it wasn't until the last track that i melted.

right as "Expressway to Yr. Skull" began, i reached down next to the speaker and picked up the record to check out the album art. then i pulled out a sleeve, looking for the lyrics for the particular song we were on.



sorry i couldn't find a better-quality version, but this will suffice. the song is listed here at the bottom under the alternate name "The Crucifixion of Sean Penn." actually i don't know what the official name is. whatever, it doesn't matter.

like i said, i was searching across the sleeves for the lyrics of the current song. "we're gonna kill the california girls." what the hell? "we're gonna find the meaning of feeling good and we're gonna stay there as long as we think we should." hell yes! i found it!

and right at that moment of Eureka! Thurston Moore cries out "Mystery Train....." at the same moment a sliding guitar sound flies overhead. then comes "Three way Plane....." with the same guitar swooping over me. before i could even gather my thoughts, the last line comes, "Expresswayyyyyyyyyyyy ... to yr. skull!"

i found the meaning of feeling good in three short lines.

Mystery Train
Three-way Plane
Expressway to yr. skull

before you even have the time to settle into that "chorus," though, the band slams into high-gear as if they are entering a long drawn-out jam. you soon doubt this expectation, as the guitars wail solemnly in the background begging for some space to breathe, the drums come crashing down, and the song calms down. you wait for some words. you beg for the mystery train to come pick you up.

but it never comes. the song spends half of its seven building up, only to spend the second half winding down, into a pristine tapering off of noise rock that's anything but noisy.

listen (last.fm has a live version available)