In the two years since he released Demolished Thoughts, the gorgeous, Beck-produced, string-heavy acoustic album, Thurston Moore has had to cope with loss. He split up with wife and band mate Kim Gordon after nearly three decades of marriage and musical partnership. As a result, their band, Sonic Youth, has remained inactive since 2011.

So, what does a consistently acclaimed musician who’s been at it since the early 1980s do when his personal and professional lives collapse simultaneously? Why, keep making fuzzy noise rock, of course! And fuzzy is perhaps the best word to describe Moore’s latest endeavor, Chelsea Light Moving, which he assembled last year with Keith Wood, Samara Lubelski, and John Moloney. The quartet’s named for a real moving company once run by Steve Reich and Philip Glass, but instead of slow-burning minimalism, Chelsea Light Moving’s debut offers a banquet of sludgy sound, an appropriate output of angst given Moore’s recent crises.

Most tracks begin simply enough with typical chugging power chord-propelled melodies and plucky bass, plus Moore’s trademark smooth howls. From there, it’s plenty of crunchy guitar noise and dark corners. Case in point: “Sleeping Where I Fall,” which devolves from quirky alt to a grungy mess for two whole minutes before closing with another chorus, and “Alighted’s” guitar-abusing acid rain third act.

Catharsis might not be a bad term to mention here. With the distortion cranked, Moore plunges into jagged metal noodling and loose lyrical portraits of distress, all indicative of his post-breakup mindset. Shoutouts to 20th century poets abound, with “Burroughs” and “Frank O’Hara Hit” namedropping in the title alone. Words mingle with barbed Marshall noise. Guitars provoke.

Expect noise, and lots of it, but the notable brief departures from Chelsea Light Moving’s buzzsaw enterprises are welcome changes that break apart the fuzzy drone that at times clouds the record. The spunky/punky “Lip” finds Moore repeatedly sneering “Too fucking bad,” as if he’s talking to his own reflection. Opener “Heavenmetal” is a sunny alt hit with some space for Moore’s voice to actually resound, and the guitars are kept in check. It seems a complete false start, though maybe Moore decided to put the jangly bit up front for a reason. “Be a warrior and love life,” he repeats to close out “Heavenmetal” before diving into a complex record of loud corners, including a Germs cover. This is a record we’d expect from Thurston Moore, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

(Matador Records, 304 Hudson St., 7th Floor, New York, NY 10013)