In the beginning there was nothing. Silence. Then: a bang. And then everything else. And though nobody was around (obviously) to hear the birth of the cosmos, the echoes of that primordial detonation linger, shaping matter and light and permeating the whole, vast, fathomless firmament. The universe, in a meaningful way, is made of noise. Noise is, for Thurston Moore, singularly meaningful: He is obsessed with its implications, its possibilities, and its sheer noisiness. In the early 1980s, Sonic