Photo by Christine Varriale
Last year I almost permanently lost my hearing. Last night, rx no rx Seeing Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks at the Paradise, I was very glad that I didn’t. There’s a sort of anxiety that comes with seeing a musician as fabled and influential as former Pavement front man Stephen Malkmus. Life long fans are often afraid of some sort of disappointment. Unsurprisingly, the threat of such disappointment quickly disappeared.
The Paradise was as noisy as can be expected from a sold out show, and the night started with Disappears slowly building their sound up from a low pulse that barely made it over the chatter of the audience and grew into a powerful drone. The Disappears’ set seemed like a fusion of the classic dark sound of SWANS and the long-winded head bobbing of a jam band. I suggest them highly…to anyone who would really like to listen to a SWANS jam band.
Then the heavy mood left by Disappears’ abruptly switched as the Jicks and Stephen Malkmus breezed onto the stage, picked up their instruments and jumped into Jenny and the Ess-Dog. It’s important to note that although Malkmus gets the most buzz, every member of the Jicks contributes to their dynamic songs and stage presence in a vital way. Joanna Bolme grounded the band with steady, strong bass work and moments of wind up toy energy, while Mike Clark and Jake Morris proved themselves to be versatile, well versed in their perspective instruments, and stylistically flexible enough to give life to each melody.
The set list was impeccable: enough of the new album to be fresh, enough of the old albums to allow the audience moments of nostalgia with well loved tracks they’ve grown with and loved for years. Malkmus himself is a force to be reckoned with. His classic “slacker” attitude paired with daring guitar stunts, it was impossible to ignore how comfortable he is with his instrument.
I’d like to address the elephant in the room: The P word. We all have strong feelings about Pavement albums and attachments to the songs we’ve sung along with from the preliminary days of our experiences with indie rock. Listening to people shout Pavement songs at the stage on Tuesday night reminded me of something Malkmus said in our interview with him a few weeks ago. When asked about his relationship with pressure from fans who expect more Pavement sounding music, he said “…It’s not an issue, I see it as all continuous, it’s just a name. Of course the people in the old band were important but when you’re writing tunes and stuff, it’s all sort of the same….” Seeing the Jicks live brought a lot of light to that statement. When we get attached to artists and idolize them the way many of us tend to with Stephen Malkmus, sometimes we hold them to an idea of them from their past and forget that they make music because they love to. They grow and progress. They change organically, and like Malkmus said, it’s continuous. Staying the same forever would actually be worse.
Stephen Malkmus writes damn good songs. He plays damn good guitar. He’s still writing damn good songs and playing damn good guitar. Spending copious amounts of time comparing his past projects to his current one sort of takes focus away from the music at hand. Wig Out at Jagbags is a great album, and seeing the songs live is an incredible experience that I urge anyone to take part in. Lariat is beautiful, with its plucky tempo giving life to the playful, sentimental lyrics. “Scattagories” will knock your socks off when you see every member of the band carry the bending melody. Older songs from the Jicks discography were a thrill in person too, particularly “Animal Midnight”, an old favorite from Pig Lib that just plain rocks.
None of us budged when their set was over, and we were glad we stayed put because shortly Malkmus and the Jicks returned to play an unforgettable encore: one that contained two Pavement favorites. We all held our breath as Malkmus pushed out the familiar fuzz that opens “Summer Babe” and let ourselves re-live the magic we felt the first time we heard Slanted and Enchanted. As if that weren’t enough, the band jumped into “Stereo.” We all grinned in disbelief. When Malkmus asked “what about the voice of Geddy Lee? How did it get so high? I wonder if he speaks like an ordinary guy?” we all shouted, as if we had waited years just to answer, “I know him! And he does!”
Go see Stephen Malkmus and the Jicks live next time you get a chance. Like Malkmus, let yourself see his music for what it is at this very moment- because it’s incredible.
