|
Pulse of the Twin Cities Login |
|
If you do not have an account yet
Create One.
|
|
|
Twin Town High (vol. 8) |
|
|
|
|
Stephen Malkmus
Wednesday 21 May @ 11:28:06 |
 by Rob van Alstyne
Pavement, arguably the highest profile independent rock band of the ’90s, was always defined by their irreverent attitude towards fame, and their strong mischievous streak. Since capturing the national scene spotlight with the definitive slacker-rock opus Slanted & Enchanted (recently given the deluxe 10th anniversary re-issue treatment by Matador Records in an unnecessary effort to re-affirm its classic status), singer/guitarist Stephen Malkmus and the rest of his Stockton, Calif., crew were never too eager to keep the bright lights shining on them. They had all the right ingredients for crossover success (a good-looking front man, quirky charm and even a near miss radio hit with the cheeky “Cut Your Hair”) but never quite burst through to mainstream stardom, mostly due to their decision to spurn the advances of several major labels at the height of their popularity. Nevertheless, Pavement’s distinctive blend of jangly/jagged guitars and free association lyrical silliness pricked up enough youthful ears that it was subsequently bastardized into an entire genre of forgettable independent rock by a legion of imitators.
As the 90s wound down, however, it was a largely buttoned-down and adult Pavement that decided to end their run as college rock darlings after completing 1999’s Terror Twilight (seemingly a last second shot at a commercial breakthrough given a sleek sonic coat by OK Computer producer Nigel Godrich). The writing was on the wall as all the members had by that point relocated to different cities with Malkmus residing in Portland and doing the majority of demoing and songwriting for Terror by himself.
The tracking process for the intricately layered Terror Twilight was by all accounts a laborious affair; in Pavement’s final days it seemed clear that the sense of anything-goes zaniness that defined the band at its inception was long gone (with guitarist Scott “Spiral Stairs” Kannberg’s edgier material notably absent and relegated to EP B-sides).
Fittingly, when the fun stopped, Malkmus pulled the plug. Returning with a self-titled solo album a mere 18 months after Pavement’s final record, it was a n obviously revitalized artist who presented himself in the new millennium. Stephen Malkmus was a record boiling over with silly synthesizer loops, the occasional heartfelt confessional (“Church On White”) and the off the cuff energy that made Malkmus a start in the first place. In the end, Malkmus’ solo work didn’t differ all that greatly from Pavement’s musical past, it just seemed like he was playing with a smile again.
Now comes Pig Lib, the second outing from Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks, the backing combination of Joanna Bolme (bass) and John Moen (drums). The subtle shift of name-checking the band in the title is the first of many signs that Pig Lib represents a step beyond the solo stylings of Stephen Malkmus towards a more democratic and band oriented sound (check out the smooth group harmonies of “Us” for a prime example of the more equal opportunity spotlight). After spending nearly a year on the road together in support of the debut, and road testing much of Pig Lib’s material before laying it down in the studio, all of the performances sound more fluid and realized than before.
Odd rhythms are toyed with (check out the winding and jittery “Water and a Seat”) and lengthy guitar workouts are the order of the day. Malkmus manages the seemingly contradictory feat of sounding loose while still being highly economical with his soloing, coming across like a slightly less jagged Tom Verlaine for the new century. Pig Lib is a musically dark affair high on borderline classic rock riffage (the wah-wah-driven “Sheets” is downright dirty) and rougher around the edges than anything Malkmus has released since Pavement’s near impenetrable 1995 classic Wowee Zowee.
Still the reigning master of lyrical eccentricity, song titles like “(Do Not Feed the) Oyster” and “Witch Mountain Bridge” show Malkmus’ lyrical concerns are still primarily a few orbits removed from the everyday. Malkmus has even been quoted as saying that “(Do Not Feed the) Oyster” is about “evil psychedelic everglades.” Fortunately, all of the wacky wordiness is married to pert pop melodies throughout so it’s easy to forgive yourself for belting along with Malkmus’ lyrical absurdities.
Clearly comfortable stretching out in myriad directions (the record contains both precise pop nuggets like the sub-three-minute “Craw Song” and pseudo-psych mind benders like the sprawling nine-minute “1 Percent of One”) Pig Lib is a surprisingly solid effort likely to sneak up on those who had already written Malkmus off as having his best musical days behind him. Despite the inevitable indie-music snob tendency towards writing off all past musical royalty as irrelevant after the age of 30, anyone with ears would be hard pressed to deny that Malkmus, nearing 36, is producing some of his freshest work yet, and delivering it with the same cocksure attitude and spark that his longtime fans have always relished.
|
|
 |
|
|
Comments -
Post Comment |
|
The comments are owned by the poster. We are not responsible for its content.
NO comments yet! Be the first!
|
|
|
