Stephen Malkmus (eponymous)
Matador Records 2001
That there are correspondences between poetry and music in Stephen Malkmus' song-writing (both on his own and as lead singer in 90s college rock band Pavement) should come as no surprise to students of rock music – a self-avowed fan of John Ashbery's lyrics, Malkmus has, over the course of five studio albums, developed an unique vocal style, and a poetic sensibility. So after spotting Anna Hedigan (co-editor of Melbourne-based e-zine Overland Express) at a recent Malkmus concert, we couldn't resist asking her to review his new CD.
The artwork on this CD is a little confused. The cover depicts ex-Pavement singer Malkmus in a handsome boy modelling school head shot but inside is a Pet Sounds-like image of him feeding a pony. The CD itself doesn't even bear his name, referring only to his new band “The Jicks”. Perhaps this acknowledgement was meant as a consolation prize for the other band members – apparently Matador Records figured selling the Portland band on its merits alone might be hard work. Especially as Malkmus' original idea was to call this album “Swedish Reggae”.
The content moves around a lot, without feeling like it's pandering to the folks out there who have an investment in Malkmus. The sound is shamelessly guitar driven and poppy; lighter than most Pavement and certainly cleaner. Malkmus' reputation for lyrical playfulness continues here – references to Doric arches and climbing the lanyard are delivered in a voice ranging from falsetto sprechgang to crooning.
“Pink India” has a blues cadence and space moog organ. It evokes colonial chess-piece imagery in language like a chilli dream after a good Sag Aloo:
A billion flies on a horse's tail
The spirit of a late lame Raj
Punjabi's finest, bring me your winelist
As the news comes across the air today
The tension grows in Afghanistan
Carbine bullets can settle the score
I had a crap gin and tonic at Wounded Knee
And sent me way off on one.
Though he's hardly the first songwriter to explore wordplay Malkmus is feted for writing stories that only have a middle – his success with this technique varies widely. Much mention has been made of “Jennifer and the Ess-Dog” as his most cogent narrative to date, but the story it traces is ultimately banal, to say nothing of the irritating bourgeois references that set my teeth on edge – Volvos, Frisbees and Dire Straits. His delivery is sweet, but he's often in danger of coming across as a smarmy undergraduate.
“Trojan Curfew” has a lovely melody and sweet slide guitar yet references to epic poetry suggest Malkmus has done little more than read Cliff notes on the Iliad and sneer at backpackers:
You could see chopped tobacco in her teeth.
Yawn.
In “The Hook” and “Phantasies” Malkmus comes over all Lou Reed-y with nonsense costumes pulled from the dress-up box and delicious melodies to sing into the mirror. Which leads me to think that with the exception of “Church on White”, Malkmus works best without narrative, when he concentrates on rhythm, spiky unexpected wordplay and powerfully segued images.
Vague Space is all calypso Casio and quivering vocals, a relationship limbo:
I came to crave your spastic touch
the honest way you move's too much.
Its abstraction serves to make me unsure whether it speaks of the beginning or end of love.
“Jo Jo's Jacket”, despite ubercool reference to Westworld and a Yul Brynner sample dissembles into an irresistible babytalk chorus, complete with Seventies guitar solo. Rumour has it Malkmus was taking the piss out of Moby:
You're such monumental slime
Let the punishment fit the crime
We'll tie you to a chair
the house music will blare
And turn your ears into a medicinal jel-lah.
There's a wonderful hammock swinging sound on this first solo outing for Malkmus, but he dips too often into cafe quips for the demi-monde.
Malkmus isn't lying however when he sings “I've got some lovely phantasies” and it's that quality which ultimately makes this album great fun.
