And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside Out by Elliot Simpson – Book Review

And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out (Yo La Tengo) – by Elliot Simpson

33 1/3 series

Published by Bloomsbury 2025

It’s always good to welcome a new title in the excellent 33 1/3 series, where writers make an in-depth examination of favourite albums. Where the series really scores is that it goes beyond the standard album facts of who played, wrote and produced, to take a much more wide-ranging view of album, artistes and context.

The latest one here is a real treat, as Elliott Simpson examines Yo La Tengo’s mid-career 2000 album And Then Nothing Turned Itself Out. The book provides a fascinating account of the music and how it was made, the author making many a good point along the way. He brings in everything from the local Hoboken NJ live music scene to Lollapalooza, the impact of MTV, and the now archaic-sounding disputes around Napster and file sharing.

I’d been vaguely aware of the group since 2003 or so, mentally filing them in the “inspired by Velvet Underground 3rd album” section, and in a more general Low, Cowboy Junkies, Mogwai, Eno, Galaxie 500, Sonic Youth type post rock bag. So it’s been a real education to find out here that Yo La Tengo predates practically all of these, having made their first album in 1986. That now stretches to seventeen albums, culminating in 2023’s This Stupid World. The group comprises long-term couple Ira Kaplan and Georgia Hubbard, and bassist James McNew. The author emphasises how the core concept of the group has always been to do things on their terms, whether that means self-management or working the merch table at gigs, all connecting to the Big Question for any artiste, “How do I make a living doing this?” You certainly won’t find them trashing hotel rooms or in and out of rehab.

The book is really strong when it comes to evoking the wider social/cultural background of their music; suburbia, as experienced in films like American Beauty, or the Simpsons’ Springfield World, nailing the false sense of togetherness I remember so well from my own time growing up in the sprawl of SW London. Gregory Crewdson’s cover photo of nocturnal bungalows, one lit by a dim TV glow, with a solitary figure enigmatically spotlit to one side, catches the disconnect perfectly, everyone separated away in their little hutches. The inner shot emphasises the idea of low-key weirdness with a neatly trimmed crop circle-like design in a field backed by more neat suburban homes.

The chapters are named after six of the album’s thirteen tracks – though we’re talking double album really, playing 77 minutes overall with eighteen-minute closer Night Falls On Hoboken, which gets a full side to on vinyl. The track itself is a beautiful slow burn as voices gradually dissolve into feedback – though notably, it’s much more structured than the Velvet Underground’s I Heard Her Call My Name-like sonic meltdowns on some of their other albums. Interestingly they cite The Kinks and My Bloody Valentine as other major influences/inspirations.

A recurring theme in the book is the contrast between isolation and community on the album, as illustrated by songs like Cherry Chapstick and the wonderfully-titled Let’s Save Tony Orlando’s House, which evokes a David Lynch-like atmosphere of a community alternately rallying around or chanting “Burn baby burn!”. The author argues convincingly that this is a crucial record in the group’s development. Previous album I Can Hear the Heart Beating As One had been their most successful to date, getting lavish praise from Pitchfork and attracting an audience eager for whatever came next. I’m sure we can all name once-loved cool bands who never recovered from going commercial (I’ll go for the Boo Radleys). But instead of making an album that would be a launchpad for greater commercial success, Yo La Tengo came back with a double album of hushed, wintry songs that rarely rise above a whisper, and in so doing the group made an emphatic statement
that they were following their path and no one else’s.

Apart from providing a comprehensive overview of the group’s career and sending me off to Discogs for lots more YLT, there are all sorts of pleasing snippets. It’s no surprise to hear that they’re very powerful live and have a wide-ranging taste in cover versions. There’s also an alter ego group, the Condo Fucks, who play suitably scuzzy garage band takes on the likes of Gudbuy t’Jane and Whatcha Gonna Do About It.

Yo La Tengo’s music is perfect for a cold winter night, and this book makes a great introduction to anyone new to their work. For all the lo-fi delicacy of the music and breathy vocals, there’s always a tension and focus to their music, which makes the occasional free-form meltdowns all the more impressive. And finally – unless I’m mistaken, just about the only thing Elliott Simpson doesn’t explain is the group’s name. As with Husker Du, I’ve come across a few different interpretations, but it’s Spanish for I’ve got it.

And Then Nothing Turned Itself Inside-Out (Yo La Tengo) is available here

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All words by Den Browne, you can read more on his author profile here:

• Source: NEWHD MEDIA