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We Chicagoans are stubbornly proud. We shout insults to New York with mouths full of all-beef hot dogs and Old Style beer. This general resentment mostly stems from being dubbed "The Second City." However, landmarks like NYC Ghosts & Flowers refocus our dislike with greater alacrity. Sonic Youth's umpteenth album wads everything we hate about New York into one convenient tissue. The only thing missing is the Mets. Sonic Youth remind us that white New Yorkers still grow soul-patches and goatees, wear berets and Rastafarian caps, dine on grilled tofu in an emulsification of goat butter and kumquat, and watch Dutch documentaries about fisting, thinking it's original, intellectual, or influential.
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