Sonic Youth最后一次演出（巴西巡演）谢幕曲 - Teen Age...
Sonic Youth的最后一场演唱会，于2011年11月14日在巴西圣保罗举行。
这是他们演出的最后一首歌《少年骚动》的视频。
金后来在她的书《乐队女孩回忆录》中写道:
“当我们最后一次登台演出时，整个夜晚都是属于男孩们的。瑟斯顿拍了拍我们的贝斯吉他手马克·伊博尔德的肩膀，大步跨过舞台，后面跟着我们的吉他手李·拉尔多，然后是我们的鼓手史蒂夫·谢利。我发现那个姿势如此虚伪，如此幼稚，如此飘渺。瑟斯顿有很多熟人，但和为数不多的男性朋友在一起时，他从不谈论任何私人的事情，也从来不喜欢拍马屁。
这个姿势是一种呼唤：我归来了，
我是自由的，
我是独一无二的。
我是最后一个上场的，确保在瑟斯顿和我之间隔出一段距离。我筋疲力尽，小心翼翼。史蒂夫坐在架子鼓后面，就像一位父亲坐在他的办公桌后面。其余的人用乐器各自武装起来，就像一个营，一支只想轰炸到底的军队。此刻外面正下着瓢泼大雨。
历经30年，今晚是Sonic Youth的最后一场演唱会。SWU音乐艺术节在Itu举行，就在巴西圣保罗，距离我们在新英格兰的家5000英里。这是一个为期三天的活动，在拉丁美洲的电视上播出，也在网上直播，赞助商包括可口可乐和喜力等大公司。这是一个要了结一切的奇异之地。
瑟斯顿和我一整周大概只说了十五个词。结婚二十七年后，我们之间的关系破裂了。八月，我不得不请他搬出我们在马萨诸塞州的房子，他也的确搬出去了。他在一英里外租了一套公寓，以往返于纽约。
这对所有人都认为是灿烈的、和谐的、密不可分的，曾给年轻的音乐家们从疯狂的摇滚世界逃生的希望的夫妇，现在陷入了又一个中年危机—— 长年关系的破裂 —— 一个男人的中年危机，第三者的女人，双重的生活。
他们说，当一段婚姻关系告终时，一些你之前从未留意的小事都会让你的大脑裂开。一整周，只要瑟斯顿在我身边，我就感同身受。或许他也有这么觉得，或许他的思维正放在别的地方。说实话，我并不是很想关心那些事情。在台下，他不停地发短信，在我们周围踱来踱去，就像一个狂躁而羞愧的孩子。
恶劣的天气一直伴随着我们穿越南美洲，从利马到乌拉圭，再到智利，现在又到了圣保罗——瑟斯顿和我之间的隔阂感就像一面陈旧的电影幕布。演出舞台就像一副尴尬的家庭音乐剧场面——在客厅、厨房或餐厅，丈夫和妻子早上擦身而过，各自煮着咖啡，谁也不认识谁，也不承认房间里有过共同回忆。”
Sonic Youth's final concert, held in Paulínia, São Paulo, Brazil, on November 14, 2011.
Here's the video from their final song ever performed, "Teen Age Riot".
Kim later wrote about the show on her book, "Girl in a Band: A Memoir":
"When we came out onstage for our last show, the night was all about the boys. Thurston double-slapped our bass guitarist Mark Ibold on the shoulder and loped across the stage, followed by Lee Ranaldo, our guitarist, and then Steve Shelley, our drummer. I found that gesture so phony, so childish, such a fantasy. Thurston has many acquaintances, but with the few male friends he had he never spoke of anything personal, and he’s never been the shoulder-slapping type. It was a gesture that called out, I’m back. I’m free. I’m solo.
I was the last one to come on, making sure to mark off some distance between Thurston and me. I was exhausted and watchful. Steve took his place behind his drum set like a dad behind a desk. The rest of us armed ourselves with our instruments like a battalion, an army that just wanted the bombardment to end. It was pouring, slanting sheets of rain.
After thirty years, tonight was Sonic Youth’s final concert. The SWU Music and Arts Festival was taking place in Itu, just outside São Paulo, Brazil, five thousand miles from our home in New England. It was a three-day-long event, broadcast on Latin American television and streamed online, too, with big corporate sponsors like Coca-Cola and Heineken. It was a strange place for things to come to an end.
Thurston and I had exchanged maybe fifteen words all week. After twenty-seven years of marriage, things had fallen apart between us. In August I’d had to ask him to move out of our house in Massachusetts, and he had. He was renting an apartment a mile away and commuting back and forth to New York.
The couple everyone believed was golden and normal and eternally intact, who gave younger musicians hope they could outlast a crazy rock-and-roll world, was now just another cliché of middle-aged relationship failure — a male midlife crisis, another woman, a double life.
They say when a marriage ends that little things you never noticed before practically make your brain split open. All week that had been true for me whenever Thurston was around. Maybe he felt the same, or maybe his head was somewhere else. I didn’t really want to know, to be honest. Offstage he was constantly texting and pacing around the rest of us like a manic, guilty kid.
The bad weather had followed us through South America, from Lima to Uruguay to Chile and now to São Paulo — a corny movie-mirror of the strangeness between Thurston and me. The festival stages were like musical versions of awkward domestic tableaux — a living room, or a kitchen, or a dining room, where the husband and the wife pass each other in the morning and make themselves separate cups of coffee with neither one acknowledging the other, or any kind of shared history, in the room."
