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Kim Gordon's work has always been desolate, brutal and visceral. This is in the post-wave misery of Sonic Youth; the dissonant and improvised spread of Body / Head, his experimental guitar duet with Bill Nace; in the frantic abandonment of Free Kitten, his collaboration with Julie Cafritz of Pussy Galore. And that's where "Sketch Artist" is, the opening of Gordon's first solo No record at home.
"Sketch Artist" begins quite familiar with the melancholic sawing of a guitar, but is quickly overtaken by spasms of sharp industrial problems. "And wind chimes strike / And your dead gaze strikes … Like an old man of the day / In the sun, dreaming in a tent," murmurs coldly, while a rumble of distortion and explosions of comments tear apart his words in tatters. These fundamental images – sunlight, a tent, reverie – are her raw material, which she cuts through and reconfigures into striking new arrangements. "You are a mystery, like a horse," she pointed out to no one in particular. In "Sketch Artist", Gordon never fights the noise that casts him anodyne. She accepts the concern.
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