Stephen Malkmus’ self-titled solo debut is probably the record I listened to most during my senior year of college (01-02). Just about every memory of that year is accompanied by lyrics and melodies from songs like “Jenny and The Ess-Dog” or “Deado,” and that’s a good thing.
But it was one of those albums that I listened to constantly for a while and then kind of lost track of — I think the burned copy of it that I had kind of wore out and then disappeared during a move or something.
Anyway, I got re-acquainted with the record this morning when I downloaded it. It was a fun listen, and I enjoyed the songs as much today as I did when I was 21.
Malkmus was the leader of Pavement, an “alternative rock” (for the record, they were using that term when it still meant something) band that dominated the scene in the 1990s. Pavement’s whole thing is best summed up for me by an episode of Beavis and Butthead where the two cartoon characters watch a Pavement video and Beavis starts screaming in frustration “try harder!”
Pavement kind of sounded lazy — their tempos were mostly pretty slow, they could be a little sloppy, their lyrics were weird, and their guitar parts were often meandering. But something weird happened after a couple of listens. It all came together, and it was like finding a diamond where you only thought you had a pile of dirty clothes. That’s often my favorite kind of music, the type that takes a few listens to understand. It just feels so rewarding.
Anyway, Pavement broke up following the 1999 release of Terror Twilight, which was their most polished and accessible record (it was produced by Nigel Godrich, who also manned the boards for Radiohead’s “OK Computer” and multple Beck albums). Two of the singles (“Spit On A Stranger” and “Major Leagues”) popped up in somewhat regular rotation on MTV really late at night.
So when Malkmus made this solo debut in 2001, it seemed logical that it was viewed as a natural progression from his previous works with Pavement. It’s a nice contrast to the final Pavement record as well — wheras Terror Twilight struck probably the most serious note of Malkmus’ career, Stephen Malkmus is a lot of light-hearted fun.
The song “JoJo’s Jacket” simultaneously evokes Yul Brenner (seriously) and the idea of punishing the bald-headed, self-important electronic music leader Moby for his awful contributions to popular music. “Trojan Curfew” seems to be about hanging out with the Greek gods, although the lyrics are typical Malkmus mish-mash, confusing, alliterative, and open to interpretation.
There’s also quite a bit of straight-forward story-telling on this record, something you didn’t see much on Pavement’s releases. “The Hook” tells the story of a young man kidnapped by Turkish pirates. He eventually becomes one of them, and the final line of the song does a great job demystifying any romantic notions that accompany piracy: “We had no wooden legs/or steel hooks/we had no black eye patches/or a starving cook/we were just killers with the cold eyes of a sailor.”
Likewise “Jenny and The Ess-Dog” is the story of a summer romance between a rich, college-bound 18-year-old and an early-30s slacker musician. It ends on kind of a melancholy note, but is overall a fun song that uses a kind 1960s-rock progression in a cool way.
Check out some of my favorite songs on the record:
JoJo’s Jacket: Like I mentioned earlier, mostly nonsense about Yul Brenner. I love this video because it doesn’t make much sense. It’s probably the kind of video I’d make if I had a chance. The kittens toward the end are hilarious.
Jenny and The Ess-Dog: I remember seeing this performance on David Letterman around the time I graduated from college and thinking it was kind of sloppy. Not sure why, as I watched this today and love every second of it.
Church on White: One of Malkmus’ better ballads. It’s slow and has a gentle melody that I’ve always liked. The video quality on this is pretty blurry, but the sound is great. Not sure where/when this performance was.
The Hook: The pirate song I mentioned before, performed at what looks like an in-store show somewhere. This kind of brings back the perceived sloppiness I mentioned before, but I still love it. A little bit of sloppiness definitely makes some music charming, especially a fun song like this.
