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At the age of 34, ex-Pavement frontman Stephen Malkmus has gotten in touch with his inner babe. These days his borderline-dorky good looks have softened up, and he's gone against his own advice and grown his hair. To quote Spin magazine, "he looks like he's finally getting laid." And evidently he is: At Malkmus' debut solo show this January at New York's Bowery Ballroom, a foxy female tambourine player/backup singer stood beside him. She was, the crowd buzzed, his girlfriend Heather Larimer.
The two met in Portland, Ore., where Malkmus moved about four years ago when his Pavement bandmates were having babies and buying houses. The dissolution of one of indie rock's brightest and most influential groups was gradual and not very surprising. With the benefit of hindsight, it is clear that Terror Twilight was always intended to be Pavement's last album. The title says it all: The lo-fi godfathers had entered their twilight years, and it wasn't a very comfortable place for them. When pavementtherockband.com ceased operations "until further notice" the breakup was as official as it was going to get.
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For the majority of their 10 years together the members of Pavement had lived in separate states, but in the later years it became more of a hassle than a pleasure to assemble and practice and record yet another album. For Malkmus, the sessions were also fraught with the pressure of making a record that was going to support him and his bandmates until the next one. Doing press for Terror Twilight, nobody hid the fact that it was practically a Malkmus solo project anyway.
Here Malkmus discusses the freedom he's been afforded as a solo artist who no longer has "mouths to feed."
In Portland Malkmus also met bassist Joanne Bolme and drummer John Moen, local musicians with whom he started "making some tunes." They eventually formed the Jicks. Like Pavement, the Jicks are dictated and dominated by Malkmus, but where his former band had grown to understand one another almost too well, the Jicks' vibe, says the singer, is "sunny and new."
Here the singer contemplates that elusive "magical chemistry moment" of a band's existence.
When Malkmus, Bolme, and Moen (plus a few guests, including Larimer) went into the studio to record Stephen Malkmus, the most important thing was that his musicians felt comfortable and relaxed. "I wanted to show them, 'see, it's fun to be in this band,'" says Malkmus.
There were, of course, the inevitable "psycho" moments, too. Malkmus talks about nine wasted days in San Jose, Calif.
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The last Pavement album, Terror Twilight, was produced by wunderkind Nigel Godrich; this time Malkmus recruited an up-and-comer named Clarence Skiboots. Oh, all right, it's a pseudonym. "Do they have REI out here?" asks the man.
What did he learn from Beck and Radiohead's producer? Click here.
All in all, Stephen Malkmus is more consistent and fully fleshed out than his last few projects - funnier, too. "Jenny & the Ess-Dog" documents the romance of a teenage girl and "a man in a '60s cover band." The end was final when "off came those awful toe rings." The heavy blues of the opening track, "Black Book," is followed by the goofy "Phantasies," which, with its Eskimo theme, is straight out of the Ween school of ridiculous rock. The song was originally conceived as an ode to sex, but, says Malkmus, that was "too gross."
How does he feel about white guys who try to play lovers' rock?
Where Pavement would reference their '70s heroes within a skewed melodic framework, Malkmus the solo artist cuts right to the chase. The layered power chords of "Discretion Grove" are pure '79 pop/punk, and a tune like "The Hook" is his best attempt at a "bar band" sound. To this listener, it sounds uncannily like the Eagles.
Malkmus draws the line between imitation and invention.
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No postmodern musician would be complete without a cheesy '90s secret weapon.
What was his?
It isn't all raised-eyebrow posturing, though. With the heartbreakingly tender "Church on White" Malkmus completely lets go of irony; a lyric like "all you ever wanted was everything, plus everything" is delivered with a gorgeous yearning. The easy gait and icy echoes of "Deado" close the album on an expansive note.
If you're thinking about browsing your local record store for a copy of Stephen Malkmus, you might be surprised how easy it is to find. Gone are the sloppy Pavement-style collages (though there's one inside) and huddled winter photos, replaced with a sun-kissed portrait of the artist on a Hawaii beach. Recalls Malkmus, "We tried to find one where I looked kinda cool but not, like, totally good." He gives a smirky smile, adding, "I wouldn't spend too much time interpreting it."
Hear his take on this "why not" decision.
For a review of Stephen Malkmus' new disc, click here.
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