10. “Stereo” (1997)
Pavement conveyed ambiguity and ambivalence better than any of its peers, more or less defining the sensibility that the indie underground would be working from in the 1990s. Malkmus’ gift for open-ended meaning is present and accounted for on the single “Stereo”: Was the chorus an ironic jab at not being on the stereo, or a clever attempt at wish fulfillment to Jedi mind-trick their way into airplay? Is “Stereo” a self-effacing dig at Pavement never becoming as popular as some had predicted, or an almost earnest last gasp to live up to its commercial potential before the opportunity slipped away? What’s best about the beefed-up sound of “Stereo” and much of Brighten the Corners was that all of those possibilities were plausible.
9. “AT&T” (1995)
“AT&T” is one of those Pavement songs that conveyed mixed messages about the band’s mission and raison d’être, announced in the opening lyrics quoted above. The group that was going to save you and maybe rock’n’roll in the bargain was also a band of merry pranksters who were probably more preoccupied with squeezing “gravy” into a rhyme than plotting a career path.
These phrases could sum up Malkmus’ MO as the voice of a cultural movement who didn’t want to be that, asking for existential guidance, only to chase it with some nonsense that pulled the chair out from under you. And that’s just scratching the surface of this rollercoaster ride of an indie romper, which moves from some of Pavement’s catchiest bits to one of those wacky, free-form Malkmus breakdowns.
8. “Shoot the Singer (1 Sick Verse)” (1992)
You can’t help but read a little too much into the title of “Shoot the Singer”, especially since the ever-evasive Malkmus usually walls himself off in so many layers of linguistic play. There’s gallows humor to Malkmus’ lyrics on the track that suggests he’s not up for the role preordained for him. While “Shoot the Singer” possesses Malkmus’ ineffable ability to convey mixed feelings without caring, it also gives an ever-so-slight glimpse of how vulnerable the unflappable frontman can be. You might not be inclined to take him at face value, but you believe him here when he tells you the “song is sacred” and feel his burden as his voice trails off, cautioning “don’t expect”.
7. “Trigger Cut” (1992)
“Trigger Cut” was Pavement at its postmodern best, which is saying a lot. With Malkmus’ intuitive gift for vocal riffing and rhyming front and center here, no other opening lines from the Pavement songbook probably piqued your interest and kept you scratching your head like the surreal, free-associating lyrics of “Trigger Cut”: You might never figure out what “Lies and betrayals / Fruit-covered nails / Electricity and lust” is referring to, but that doesn’t mean you won’t keep trying.
Amidst all the vividly weird imagery and the song’s mysterious semi-narrative, Malkmus slips in the lesson on post-structural semiotics quoted above without you even noticing it, making it go down easy with his spoken-sung vocals. The truth of the words, indeed.
6. “Gold Soundz” (1994)
With its retro-ish sound, Pavement could make you feel nostalgic for something that never actually existed, an uncanny sensation that “Gold Soundz” captured better than anything else in the Pavement catalog. While Malkmus’ wordsmithing often took center stage — and, of course, it does here too — the band’s music had a remarkable gift for matching the lyrics in expressing just the right wry and yearning tone. “Gold Soundz” was indeed golden, recalling some undiscovered AM-rock gem you’d thought you heard before, except there’s no way you could have. That might be the most appropriate way to describe Pavement as hitmakers in an alternate universe.
5. “Box Elder” (1989)
On “Box Elder”, from the band’s debut EP Slay Tracks (1933-1969), Pavement showed that it was destined to be going places, just not along the path of least resistance. If the easy melody of “Box Elder” wasn’t evidence enough, Malkmus was all but telling you in the lyrics that he knew how to make those good things come his way; it was just that he wasn’t sure he wanted to go that route. Even as it hinted at Malkmus’ natural gifts as a songwriter, “Box Elder”, in its sentimental but skeptical outlook, announced just how non-committal and standoffish Pavement was at the very core of its being, grabbing hold of your attention only to become ambivalent about whether it actually cared about that or not.
4. “Cut Your Hair” (1994)
As goofy and fun as it appears to be, you might not notice how deep “Cut Your Hair”, er, cuts: It’s at once Pavement’s most enduring and endearing hit as well as its most scathing commentary on the superficiality of the post-Nevermind music biz, coming at a cultural moment when Malkmus and company could’ve written their own check on any major label. Piling on one absurdly catchy element on top of another, from the earworming ooo-ooo-ooo’s to the mock fist-pumping chorus to the riffy guitars, “Cut Your Hair” was proof positive that Pavement knew what the game was all about and how to win it, if only the band had decided to play along.
3. “Frontwards” (1992)
You could say “Frontwards” was Malkmus at his most coy and tongue-in-cheek, except that what he was singing about was entirely true. Pavement’s anti-style style has often been imitated, but never duplicated. Dubbed the Grace Kelly of indie rock by Courtney Love, Malkmus, at the height of his powers, exuded a nonchalance about his skills and talents, giving you the idea that he knew he was working with what’s, more often than not, a disposable art form, while somehow being able to elevate it into something more.
With more pithy chestnuts than he knew what to do with, Malkmus, early on, had the ability to come off cool and throw down brilliant lines without ever seeming to try, especially when you compare him to all those who didn’t have so much style to waste.
2. “Summer Babe” (1992)
Who said Pavement didn’t have heart? “Summer Babe” is Pavement’s idea of a love song: On it, Malkmus seems at once suspicious of what that convention represents, but is still green enough as an artist not to be totally jaded about it either. If anything, all the layers to the song imply a sense of emotion and desire so strong that Malkmus can’t help but wrap it up in surreal imagery and allusions that are probably going over your head.
“Summer Babe” is hopelessly romantic in an indirect way, not even the “Ice, baby” in-joking at the beginning, nor the painterly descriptions of shiny robes and plastic-tipped cigars, can totally draw you away from Malkmus’ true feelings. You ultimately find them in the lyrics, when Malkmus, after all the waiting, waiting, waiting, gives in to his feelings despite himself as he calls out “You’re my summer babe.” However, you sensed what was going on in guitar lines that express yearning in a satisfyingly unfulfilled way.
1. “Here” (1992)
In typically inscrutable fashion, Malkmus might as well have told the story of Pavement before it happened on “Here”, like he was almost willing a self-fulfilling prophecy, except that it’s hard to argue that success never came for a band as revered and influential as this one. Depending on what you think of Pavement’s legacy and your definition of making it big, “Here” is either self-consciously prescient or self-effacingly wrong.
Standing out above and beyond any other song by the group for its melancholy undertone, “Here” finds Pavement at its most poignant and vulnerable, without losing its edge or humor. When Malkmus exhorts, “Come join us in a prayer / We’ll be waiting, waiting there / Everything’s ending here,” he’s reaching out in the only way Pavement knows how to, through a rallying cry that’s delivered in a world-weary whisper. It’s a touching moment that makes you realize, after the fact, that a palpable sentimentality was always the flipside of smirky irony for Pavement.
The 20 Essential Pavement Songs
This article was originally published on 9 August 2011.