Kim Gordon, “The Collective.”

The second solo album by Kim Gordon, The Collective, is a little like the beginning of Charles Dickens’ “A Tale of Two Cities,” as it sounds like both the best of times and the worst of times.

It is the best of times for Gordon, now 70(!) as she strikes out for new musical territory with the help of producer Justin Raisen. And it’s the worst of times for the culture, as it has become increasingly fractured, discordant, and, you know, sort of shambling toward annihilation. The album captures both of these dynamics through the artistry of Gordon’s vision.

Musically, the album is part train wreck, part hard-drive catastrophe, as distorted analog guitars drone over super heavy bass and drum loops, mangled by all manner of digital torture. The sound is very much comparable to Gordon’s 2019 solo debut, No Home Record, only more so.

The album’s opening track, “Bye Bye,” bounces with doomy hip-hop energy. Most listeners would likely guess the artist was someone like Kid Cudi (whom Raisen recorded “Angel” with last year) or Playboi Cardi before guessing the former bassist from the influential post-rock band Sonic Youth. Lyrically, “Bye Bye” is a list, the cataloging of items and concepts being jettisoned from life. “Button down, laptop, hand cool, body lotion, Bella Freud, YSL, Eckhaus Latta/Eyelash curler, vibrator, teaser, bye bye, bye bye,” Gordon checks off with her characteristic sultry nonchalance.

On her last two solo efforts, Gordon has combined musical elements across genres to create something totally new-feeling. Amid a sea of sameness, Gordon’s and Raisen’s combining of heavy hip-hop rhythms and industrial noise and concept art has spawned a new hybrid. It’s much like Sonic Youth’s collaboration with Cypress Hill a little over 30 years ago, “I Love You Mary Jane,” but Gordon’s amalgamation updates both musical variables in the equation for the 21st century.

The album’s mood, something akin to being inside a super computer as it tumbles down the side of a mountain, remains consistent throughout as the harsh processed noise and heavy lyricism feel relentless. But lyrically, Gordon is working against the musical totalitarianism. The songs offer messages of feminine empowerment and critiques of masculinity.

“It’s not my fault I was born a man/ Come on, Zeus/ Take my hand/ Jump on my back/ ‘Cause I’m the man,” Gordon sings over the malevolent throbbing bass of “I’m a Man.” But then the verse cuts even deeper: “So what if I like the big truck?/ Giddy up, giddy up/ Don’t call me toxic/ Just ’cause I like your butt.”

The wonderful thing about the new album is it sounds like Kim Gordon has embraced her role as a Yoko-Ono-like conceptual artist for the 21st century. Like Ono, Gordon has emerged from male-centric musical spaces of her past, and carved out a new space for herself, on her own terms. And like Ono’s music, The Collective is not for everyone. The album demands to be taken on its own terms. Musically, it asks listeners to open their minds, and to occupy a new liminal space, or musical food court, where diverse cuisines add to the collective flavor.