Thurston Moore – review

In his 30 years fronting New York art-rock perennials Sonic Youth , Thurston Moore has always looked to confound expectations. The cult star's latest solo project may just be his most surprising yet. Produced by Beck , Moore's recent album Demolished Thoughts saw him eschew Sonic Youth's trademark dissonance and feedback in favour of a low-key, beatific strain of folk-rock noir that borders on the bucolic. At this one-off London show, he looked to reproduce this atypical material with a four-piece band featuring a violinist and a harpist. Even shorn of Beck's studio trickery, the songs stood up. Benediction had a Velvet Underground air of ennui and sexual transgression, with Moore murmuring "You better hold your lover down/ Tie him to the ground." Tracks such as Illuminine and the plangent January were Syd Barrett-like exercises in blanched, mildly trippy chamber-pop. With a 12-string guitar slung around his neck and looking far younger than his 52 years, the taciturn Moore had a professorial air as he constantly lost his place among his lyric sheets on a lectern. He pulled it together for In Silver Rain With a Paper Key, a flight of cryptic whimsy powered by a gorgeous melody, and the muted psychedelia of Blood Never Lies, whose air of stoned serenity strongly suggested Nick Drake. Keen to re-establish his agent-provocateur credentials, Moore read an apocalyptic love poem, Blossom, for the encore, then strummed through the facetious motorik of an old live favourite, Fri/End. It was a fittingly contrary end to a engrossing evening.