Sonic Youth's Murray Street hit the stores about a month ago. It's new, but not as new as I'd like it to be for covering a "new release" in an article. I should have jumped out and bought an advanced copy or stayed in the record store until midnight in order to lay my hands on a copy first, right? Instead, I was hesitant. However my hesitation is warranted: the last two studio albums from New York's avant-rock power team left little to be enjoyed and much to be skipped. For instance, 1995's Washing Machine contained about three songs worth listening to repeatedly (Junkie's Promise, Unwind, Skip Tracer) while the others either shared practically identical riffs (No Queen Blues, Panty Lies) or no central riff at all (Washing Machine). I sum up 1998's A Thousand Leaves thusly: second verse, same as the first, little bit louder and a little bit worse. The only thing this album did was remind us that Macauly Culkin, featured in the video to the single Sunday, used to be a pretty funny kid before Hollywood took away his soul. Hoarfrost was a pretty good track, one of the only actual songs on the album; the rest presented tuneless, fuzz-filled abstractions posing as pieces in a coherent, whole album. Off-putting.

Experimentation is good. Creativity is good. But the frustrating thing about Sonic Youth is that for the last six years their fans have had to grin and bear the feedback portrayed as melody on their albums while longing for the days of bonafide tunes like Silver Rocket from the mid-80s classic Candle or even Bull in the Heather from the mid-90s classic Experimental Jet Set, Trash, and No Star. It's frustrating when you know a band can write really good songs based on decades of evidence but when you buy their new album it leaves you asking: "Is this the same band I fell in love with? Where's the effort? Have I changed so much since the last release or am I right in thinking I've just been had?" Well, for Sonic Youth fans, the days of being had are finally over and Murray Street is the proof.

This is the first of their last three major releases where I found myself knowing the album was good right from the start. With the others one needed to listen and re-listen, altering the mood of each experience and setting with time and distance. I bought this album in Austin and didn't listen to it until I was ready for the mind-numbing drive north to Oklahoma City. I pushed play, let the whole thing run through to the end, and pushed play again. Seven songs (yes, real songs!), clocking in at only forty-five minutes- do the math and you'll see that's about six minutes or so per song. This allows each one to create highly developed themes and feelings through the music (yes, real music!). It becomes evident after studying the album as a whole that maybe the past two releases were aiming for the results found on Murray Street but, for whatever reasons, missing the mark. On Murray Street, Sonic Youth combine the recognizable riff of days gone by with their trademark fuzz wash; Modern Rock meet The Future, The Future, meet Modern Rock.

The album opens with The Empty Page, a Thurston Moore-led power trip with wife Kim Gordon providing bass flourishes before unseen. Next comes the strolling Disconnection Notice: "It simply states you're disconnected, babe/ See how easily it all slips away." And it does slip away, but in the most controlled of ways. A good control, the kind you need to let the disc spin without getting spun out. "Rain On Tin" hearkens back to the tranced-out days, circa Bad Moon Rising, at the beginning with steady blasts from all the instruments but soon moves into completely new territory. All the members play together within an instrumental bridge; no one stands alone with wild feedback or off-pitch notes. The result is like a pleasant walk around the block which builds to a downhill run, spins into a circle of fifths, and eventually ends back in the driveway from which it set out. "Karen Revisited" passes vocal duties from Thurston to Lee Ranaldo. The "revisited" refers to the dark and trying "Karen Koltrane" from A Thousand Leaves. This one outdoes the other in all regards while maintaining the integral, static vortex, freak-out in the middle. Jim O'Rourke, modern composer and art rock guru, carries his share of the vocal burden in Radical Adults Lick Godhead Style. Sonic Youth's first new member in 20 years just may be the whip keeping the horses in line on this venture. Kim Gordon wraps up the final two tracks, "Plastic Sun" and "Sympathy for the Strawberry". The frantic pace of the former recalls Kissability from Candle and Brave Men Run from Bad Moon Rising; possibly the best example of new meeting old with positive results.

Besides the aural magic recorded on this disc, virtual magic resides as well. The album is an enhanced CD allowing access to a "secret site" complete with non-album tracks, videos, and photos. It also features a screen saver but I can't get mine to play the music supposedly contained therein. It's the thought that counts, and as with any Sonic Youth album (good or bad) the thoughts are definitely there. On Murray Street the back of the case depicts a street sign with opposing "one way" arrows beneath it. A clue, for sure, that the music within manages to groove both ways simultaneously; catchy tunes grab the ear and hold the attention while subtle fuzz-foam and heated blasts test the psyche. Take a bus, take a cab, walk if you have to, but get to Murray Street and check out the scene. You won't be let down.