Free Kitten / Sentimental Education Sean Kennedy Kill Rock Stars Grab a kid from anywhere: his bed, his car, his Jacuzzi of pathos. Throw on some standard-issue mod gear. Get a second kid and dress him up in the Salvation Army's finest. Take a third; he'll wear black Chuck Taylors, jeans, and a ratty t-shirt that displays a suitably esoteric band name. Finally, give the fourth one a guitar and a whiny voice. Slap on all of 'em a cooler-than-thou sneer, then repeat the process until you have many bewildered faces gawking at you. Stand them in a row and put their hands together. Then turn on Free Kitten's Sentimental Education and laugh as they're blown down like a chain of paper dolls -- cuz this album's the anti-Christ of indie rock. And no wonder, because Kim Gordon's in charge. Sentimental Education is the second album from Free Kitten, the all-star band which also includes Julie Cafritz (formerly of Pussy Galore), Yoshimi (of the Boredoms), and Mark Ibold (of Pavement). But despite the considerable talents of these three, Free Kitten's music bears the singular mark of Gordon. In fact, Sentimental Education is only the latest example of her endless vision, one few musicians have matched over the past 15 years. That vision has been borne out primarily in Sonic Youth, her main band, but now it's firmly evident in Free Kitten, proved by the group's startling inventiveness, muscular energy, and sheer brazenness. That's why Sentimental Education is so dope: in its vivid originality, it shows that rock is not dead yet (and let's face it, you scrawny true-believers, its pulse has been dangerously close to flatlining for years now). I wrote rock off as a hopeless bastion of staleness and myopia at least a year ago; with this record, Free Kitten gives me back my hope. It's that good. The first cut, an outrageous cover of Serge Gainsbourg's "Teenie Weenie Boppie," sets the tone for the album in its general fuck-that-noise attitude. Gordon's signature voice ironically articulates the lyrics, accompanied by campy brass and maracas: 'nuff said. The following songs embody an impressive diversity, including a postcard from Sonic Youth's recent excursions into pure noise (the 12-minute-long title track), a parody of typical indie rock ("Top 40"), and the first example of rock reaching acid jazz I've heard ("Daddy Long Legs"). The real genius of Sentimental Education, though, lies in the three songs remixed by We and DJ Spooky. "Never Gonna Sleep" features two jaunty guitar and bass riffs looped from start to end. The finished track maintains the musical integrity of rock while still using electronic tools to great effect (a one-two punch seldom accomplished by so-called techno remixes of any type of non-techno). It, along with the other two remixes, is on par with Cibo Matto's masterpiece from a few years ago, Viva La Woman!, which showed how far a little mixing, sampling, and creativity go toward reinvigorating rock. So, kids, buy Sentimental Education. Play it loud and a lot. Even pimp it out with a boombox on your shoulder, pumping out the Free Kitten for the U.Va. masses with their heads up their asses. At the very least, clutch the album tightly to your chest to ward off the poseurs who surround us.

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