Sonic Youth have finally done it. They dare you to tell them to fuck off. Their latest, with the absurdly pompous title Good-bye 20th Century, is a double cd collection of other composers' avant garde "new music" pieces. Well known names like John Cage, Steve Reich and Yoko Ono are represented, as well as some lesser celebrities like Takehisa Kosugi and Cornelius Cardew. What you have here, on surface (if you don't squint too hard at the Emperor's new duds) is two CDs worth of the highly annoying guitar-scrape, low-fi studio monkeying that clutters all of the Sonics' good rock music. Fine, I said it, I admit it. This records is unbearable, it is abraisive . . . at times it hurts your ears. But just so long as everyone here knows that going into it, and you're willing to give it a shot, there are moments of occasional interest.

"Good-bye Twentieth Century," or, as I've been calling it, the Whitney Museum Soundtrack, begins with a sixteen minute droning mess created by Christian Wolff in 1969. A lot of feedback, space, distortion, clanging of metal, piano notes banged out of context, and, best of all, Kim Gordon muttering incoherently and earnestly. That's my favorite part. 'Cause there had to have been at least ten guys watching her when she did this mad rambling, and at least one of them had to be laughing at her. There's one bit where she starts repeating "Click on! Click on!" over and over . . . is she talking about the world wide web?? Then she goes on a Moon Unit like rap about a post-apocalyptic Goldilocks.

Other highlights include Kim Gordon and Thurston Moore's child screaming in "Voice Piece For Soprano," and the "Piano/Carpenter's Piece" by Fluxust George Maciunas that's dedicated to Nam June Paik. It sounds like people hitting a piano with wood. That's cause that's what it is. And "Having Never Written A Note For Percussion," created by James Tenney in 1971, sounds at times like extra-creepy horror movie music.

Steve Reich, whose "Music For 12 Instruments" I actually genuinely like, is represented here with something called "Pendulum Music." It sounds like it's name suggests, an aural Mike Snow film, see-sawing through your brain. At six minutes it's a bit much, but it is quite something how Messers. Moore and Ranaldo (Lee) manage to get their guitars to sound so much like recorders. Well . . . they've been at this game a long time.

I didn't spend a dime on these two CDs which is why I'm not ranting and raving about it. If you ever feel you aren't being bohemian enough, and don't know where to start, this could be a fine place. Or, if you've got angry abstract painters over the house and you want some background music, it may come in handy. Other than those instances, I think I can safely say that surplus from late 20th Century art happenings, even if they are recorded in hi-fi, aren't all that apt for heavy rotation.

I listened to this album once, now let us never speak of it again.