I'm always been an advocate of the theory that it's better to burn out than fade away. The Rolling Stones, Woody Allen, Elvis Costello, Tom Wolfe, David Bowie, R.E.M., Martin Scorsese, U2, Bob Dylan, add some more to the list. All should have quit while they were ahead. That's the reason everyone still loves the Beatles, because we weren't subjected to The Beatles Do Disco! in 1977. The best thing that ever happened to Led Zeppelin was their drummer choking on his own vomit, and they were already pushing the limits. Granted there may be rare exceptions, but most of these are manufactured by fans and the press, i.e. a five-star review of the latest Rolling Stones album.
It's hard to blame the artists, really. They need to make a living. And, unfortunately, their fans, aging rapidly themselves, can never simply walk away. Why would the middle-aged Stones fan spurn A Bigger Bang in order to buy the Arctic Monkey's LP instead? If a Rolling Stones' fan admits that they no longer are able to make a great album (This is something they should have realized in 1973), do they not also realize their own mortality? Not to mention the artists themselves; I'm sure that within six months of the Stones breaking up for good (which won't happen by the way, without a band member's death) that at least two of them will die. Maybe this is the problem, that we can never fully admit that younger people can do it better. I'm at the age now in which every pro athlete in the first 5 years of their career is younger than I, which is kind of a hard fact to accept. As a teenager, I could always look at the athletes, and musicians and filmmakers and authors for that matter, and think, wow, maybe in a few years I'll be able to do something like that. As time went on, it was more "Wow, he directed his first feature at 23, I only have two years left." Now, it's: "Damn, I need to buy more nacho cheese, I'm out again."
Anyway, I'll admit that this theory can be clouded by the fact that we are always searching for the next big thing (and by 'we' I mean people who haven't simply given up on new music/literature/art and have chosen a closed-off existence in 1991 or 1987 or 1968 or whenever), and originality is often confused with greatness. Likewise, artists who change with the times are often accused of pandering (which no doubt is sometimes the case) with electronic blips and freshly frosted tips.
But let's go back to music, can you think of any band or artist which released their best album more than ten years after they started? The only clear example I'm sure of is The Flaming Lips' The Soft Bulletin (released in 1999, a solid 15 years after their inception), otherwise I'm at a loss. There are some that come right at the cutoff mark, but nothing definitive. The pursuit of greatness is something that cannot be sustained over a long time period, but is too appealing to stop trying.
The reason I've been thinking about all this lately is that the new Sonic Youth album is fucking great. Probably not 'their best album ever' great, but great nonetheless. It's called Rather Ripped and will be in stores on Tuesday. Am I just being naive? Am I as bad as the people I've described above? Sonic Youth always seemed on a different level than most bands, because even though they were never famous (except for a brief semi-famous period in the early-to-mid 90s (they were on an episode of the Simpsons after all: Thurston Moore: Aw, come on, Mr. Frampton. You're not gonna eat all that watermelon.)), but they always managed to pay the mortgage and avoid the factors that could break up a band or cause it to pander. Between the summers of 1998 and 1999 I bought every album they had released up to that point. Enjoyed all of them, some more than others, agreed with most critics that their mid to late 80s run was their peak. The 90s stuff was good, but there were always certain songs that never quite clicked. And, of course, they were never great singers or lyricists. But they continued to self-release experimental EPs and hold captive a devoted fanbase. I continued to buy their new records. NYC Ghosts + Flowers was mostly bad, and I was prepared to put them out to pasture, but they critically rebounded with their next two albums, which perhaps top anything they put out in the decade prior. This alone is cause for alarm. And the new album, it's nothing different except a bit catchier, perhaps their last offering of relatively mainstream fare (coinciding with the last album on their major label record contract) before they firmly shut the door on the masses that never accepted them. But the band members' ages are, as of today, 53, 50, 47, and 43. My parents are 54 and 52. This is old. Can you think of any 50-year-olds you wouldn't mind hanging out with, not to mention any who you would feel self-consciously uncool around?
Like I said, perhaps I'm just being naive here. But maybe Sonic Youth found magic alien pods in their swimming pool. Maybe they alone have the secret, or maybe just have been lucky. I'm not sure, but it doesn't seem natural.
