EVOL was not just a skewering of rock’n’roll but also of America. A college syllabus could revolve around its vast allusions to Marilyn Monroe, Charles Manson, The Great Gatsby, and Alfred Hitchcock. EVOL might have a cheeky Richard Kern horror-film still on the cover, it might feel like the most dissonant passages of the Grateful Dead’s Dark Star held captive and tormented in a cavernous haunted house, but the album was beyond a “faux-goth” record, as Gordon once described it. EVOL is a graveyard for 1960s peace-and-love idealism. (The title is “love” backwards.) The destructive force of no wave and hardcore was cast as a new kind of sonic conceptual art.