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P a v e m e n t live at the warfield, s.f.
the sleeve of Pavement's latest album, "Brighten the Corners," shows pictures of the band under the heading "The Nicene Creeders" -- there's that patented Pavement irony again. The Nicene Creed is the main article of Christian faith, but as auteurs du rocque this band has never placed their faith in a damned thing. Not rock itself, since their hooks always come at you from oblique angles, and not even the indie rock they helped popularize, since the relatively pop sound of "Brighten" doesn't exactly pander to the cardiganed masses. But thankfully, they've got no great faith in success, either. Instead of delivering their guitar-driven songs with the same sardonic sensibility that has made them (semi-) famous, they played a loose-limbed, almost experimental 90-minute set to kick off their mostly sold-out, three-month American tour. Not that singer/guitarist/indie god Stephen Malkmus has lost his sense of irony -- throughout the night he chattered away, smirking as he dropped band names like Spacemen 3, New Riders of the Purple Sage and Emerson Lake and Palmer. But when it came to the music, Malkmus and the rest of the five-piece band took their business seriously, proving that good songcraft doesn't require a note-perfect performance. Opening with a limber version of "In the Mouth A Desert," from their trailblazing "Slanted and Enchanted," they slowed down the song and went for a more contemplative sound, and "We Dance," a slight, soulful ballad from their unjustly maligned "Wowee Zowee" album was transformed into a jagged lament. Multi-instrumentalist Bob Nastanovich, often a minor character on Pavement records, came into the fore onstage, adding screams, drums and elliptical keyboard fills that gave the entire performance an engrossingly off-kilter feel. That feel, when brought to bear on the acclaimed "Brighten" songs, made the album itself almost seem like a hoodwink -- experimental music disguised as hit-bound pop-rock. They drove "Embassy Road" straight home, but wah-wah pedal, drum breaks and the odd keyboard noise were added to more angular pieces like "Blue Hawaiian," "Stereo," "Starlings of the Slipstream" and "Transport is Arranged." During "Type Slowly," a ballad that slowly evolved into a pummeling clash of
guitar-noise, Malkmus momentarily lost his Rock Star likeness, and even his cocky cult-hero stance. As he nursed one last blast of feedback out of his speaker, cracked one more joke, he kicked and swayed like a kid with a new favorite song -- the same kid who sounded genuinely surprised as he proclaimed "Hey, listen to me! I'm on the stereo!" -- he
didn't even seem like the Next Big Deal. Just a fellow who, in spite of all the irony, has stumbled into a state of grace.
-- Mark Athitakis Mark Athitakis is a regular contributor to Salon. |
