Fluxblog #299: Stephen Malkmus x 7
This week's free episode of Fluxpod features Nick Sylvester, who started off as a music critic for the Village Voice and Pitchfork in the 2000s but has since become a musician, producer, and co-founder of the artist development company Godmode. Nick and I discuss his evolution and career, including his apprenticeship with LCD Soundsystem's James Murphy, an awkward experience being called in to potentially contribute to Beyoncé's Lemonade, and developing artists such as Shamir, Yaeji, and LoveLeo. You can find the episode in all the pod places, and on the Fluxblog Patreon. This weekend's Patreon exclusive episode will feature the writer and entrepreneur Caitlin White.
All of this week's posts are about Stephen Malkmus, as this year marks the 20th anniversary of his post-Pavement career on his own and with The Jicks. The following posts over one song from his of his Jicks records, and you can find a lot more Malkmus posts on Fluxblog – including songs from his two most albums – through the years right here.
January 4th, 2021
A Moment I Could Learn To Love
Stephen Malkmus “Vague Space”
Stephen Malkmus went through a phase in the late 90s and early 00s in which he clearly felt a natural pull towards writing traditional romantic pop songs but felt weird and self conscious about it, so any time a melody suggested a sentimental cliché he wrote in something absurd or off-putting to subvert the listener’s expectations. You can hear this on “You Are A Light,” “Spit On A Stranger,” “Major Leagues,” and “Ann Don’t Cry” on Terror Twilight, and very obviously in “Vague Space” from the first Jicks record. This isn’t all conjecture – early versions of these songs have been in rotation for ages and the demo version of “Vague Space” featured on the “Phantasies” single features an early version of the chorus that goes “I love to turn you on” before it was revised to “I love to tear you off.” The editing process was pretty transparent.
There’s a part of me that sees this as a cop-out, a way of shrinking away from genuine emotions because you don’t want anyone to accuse you of being corny. But that impulse to shrink away from feelings, to put up a flimsy defense – that’s a very relatable feeling, and “Vague Space” is definitely a song about hedging emotional bets and playing it cool. The first verse is a dodge on a “define the relationship” conversation that includes a genuine compliment that’s also a neg – “I came to crave your spastic touch, the honest way you move’s too much,” and the second verse drifts into poetic nonsense, as if to say “haha, never mind.” As it goes along Malkmus tries to downplay everything – “this is no new romantic blitzkrieg” – but the sound of it all makes it obvious that he’s coming from a sweet place and just hates dealing with pressure. The “vague space” is a comfort zone, a way to enjoy feelings and moments without any particular responsibility. It’s not necessarily the most noble thing, but it’s an understandable position.
Buy it from Amazon.
January 5th, 2021
Wedding Bells And Christmas Hell
Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks “(Do Not Feed the) Oyster”
“Oyster” is a turning point for Stephen Malkmus as a songwriter. The majority of the first Jicks record could’ve been Pavement songs – in fact, a few of the songs had at least been rehearsed with that band. But “Oyster,” which was debuted on stage well before Pig Lib was released, could only be a Jicks song. This is the sound of the middle aged Malkmus, more winding and digressive in his guitar melodies and supported by a band more capable of pushing into more epic and bombastic territory. It’s not a world away from where he’d been, but it was an aesthetic breakthrough that gave the Jicks a character beyond “the guy from Pavement playing with people who weren’t in Pavement.”
The sound of “Oyster” feels vaguely nautical, like there’s some sea shanty mixed in with the tuneful English folk and prog rock in its DNA. The lyrics reflect this somewhat, but it’s very confusing – like, what would it mean to feed the oysters when they survive by extracting algae from water? It sounds cool, though, and that’s usually his goal. The most intriguing bit is when the song circles back to the second verse and it’s suddenly about the disappointing hassles of adult life. It’s an interesting contrast with the songs on Pavement’s Brighten the Corners, which often seemed to long for these mundane rituals. Malkmus was 30 when he wrote those songs and nearer to 40 when he wrote “Oyster” – certainly less intriguing when you’re not a guy constantly touring through his 20s and probably wondering from time to time what being a regular grown up might be like.
Buy it from Amazon.
January 5th, 2021
Please Deform Me
Stephen Malkmus “Pencil Rot”
“Pencil Rot” nudges the ersatz new wave of the Pig Lib song “Dark Wave” a bit further into more demented territory, sharpening up every part that could be called “angular,” piling on scuzzy effects, and going hogwild with the bleep-y synthesizers. “Dark Wave” was basically just a genre goof but “Pencil Rot” firmly establishes the more wacky keyboard-centric end of the Jicks aesthetic, a sound that was eventually taken to a logical extreme on Groove Denied.
The lyrics of “Pencil Rot” start off by embracing the silliness of the music, with Malkmus telling us about a villain in his head named Leather McWhip – “he needs to be stopped!!” But as the song moves along Malkmus’ riff on villainy shifts from a celebration of the cartoonish to a rumination the insidiously mundane:
I’m here to sing a song, a song about privilege
the spikes you put on your feet
when you were crawling and dancing
to the top of the human shit pile, shit pile
somehow you managed to elucidate
something that was on all of their minds
and other people see themselves in you
and I can see them in you too
From the perspective of 2021 it’s easy to read this as a pretty good description of Donald Trump, though in context he may have actually been thinking of George W. Bush. But in either case I like that Malkmus focuses in on the utility of the privileged megalomaniac as someone who can distill negative impulses and allow for identification that crosses class divides. It’s the idealized self, the version that can do whatever they want with impunity and wield actual power in the world. It’s grasping power and privilege by proxy, and the proxy is nothing without this shared delusion.
Buy it from Amazon.
January 7th, 2021
Break Out Of Your Core Categories
Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks “Wicked Wanda”
The lyrical content of Real Emotional Trash is split between playful imagery and thoughtful introspection, and in the case of “Wicked Wanda” it’s pretty much an even bisection. It’s two angles on psychedelia – the first half more fanciful and trippy, the second half much about ego-loss. This song, along with “Elmo Delmo,” confronts anxiety and fear in a way that was unusual for Malkmus up to this point in his career – or at least for him to be so direct about it. This part breaks into two verses, and the first is more tranquil and ideal as he lets go and allows himself some clarity and peace of mind in feeling small. The second verse is darker: “stories, not reality / I feel like a junk contraption / truth is I can’t shake this vile fear.” That last line always rattles me a bit, partly because Malkmus always presents as being so unflappable. But that image of him, the man who’s got so much style that it’s wasted? That’s a story, not reality.
“Wicked Wanda” attains some degree of grandeur and grace thanks in large part to the presence of Janet Weiss on drums and backing vocals. Weiss was a member of the Jicks for a little over five years after Sleater-Kinney dissolved after touring for The Woods, but she only plays on Real Emotional Trash and Mirror Traffic. She has a more heavy influence and obvious presence on the former, and it’s clear that working with a drummer as powerful and proficient in her emboldened Malkmus to aim for a dynamicism and drama that wouldn’t have ever worked with any of Pavement’s drummers. Weiss’ predecessor John Moen was similarly proficient but not quite as hard hitting or as flashy with fills. She does well with the songs on Mirror Traffic but that material doesn’t seem as tailor-made for her, and while that is probably just the natural drift of his songwriting muse it also seems like the novelty of having a drummer like that became less of a novelty and more of a day-to-day reality. Four albums down the line from her departure it feels like Weiss’ presence was a very good experience for Malkmus to have, but also something that was probably better as a phase than a permanent situation.
Buy it from Amazon.
January 7th, 2021
The Parental Magic
Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks “Share the Red”
The part I always remember from “Share the Red” is the one little part of the song that breaks from its slack, easygoing sway to tighten up and get dramatic as Malkmus sings “I’ll be watching all the time” three times with an unguarded passion. That’s the moment of clarity, the rest of the song is all mixed emotions as he sings about raising his children and taking note of the ways they’re wild and unformed before fully absorbing the rules of society. It’s not a sentimental song, but it is an empathetic one. He’s appreciating their lack of perspective while doing what he can to expand it in his role as a father. I love the nuance of this song – you can tell he cares about his kids and enjoys being a parent, but also how challenged he is by it and how exhausting it can feel. But I wouldn’t characterize this as expressing ambivalence about the situation, just an acknowledgement of the complexity of the situation.
Buy it from Amazon.
January 8th, 2021
Make The Music Listen
Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks “Surreal Teenagers”
You go into a Malkmus song expecting some degree of evocative wordplay, but even with that expectation, “Surreal Teenagers” is especially rich with odd and interesting images. (I feel like there’s at least three or four very strong band names up for grabs in this one.) Malkmus is extra playful on this one too, to the point of singing the last two verses in a fanciful lilt as he takes on the character of some dandy dreaming of moving to Micronesia with his manservant John.
“Surreal Teenagers” circles back to the English folk and prog rock influences that went into much of Pig Lib, but it’s also informed by the dramatic flair that came from Janet Weiss’ presence in the band – basically, it’s like “1% of One” as a rollercoaster ride rather than an extended jam. This is from Jake Morris’ first record as The Jicks’ drummer, and the song showcases his strength as someone who can shift from an expressive jam band looseness to a more straight-ahead post-punk style on a dime.
Buy it from Amazon.
January 8th, 2021
A Hue Of Robitussin
Stephen Malkmus & The Jicks “Middle America”
I hear echoes of the Pavement song “Greenlander” in “Middle America” – not enough that they’re extremely similar on a structural level, but close enough in tone that they share a particular shade of melancholy and evoke a frigid and empty landscape. In lyrical terms they’re from very different ends of a lifespan. “Greenlander” confronts a very youthful sort of awkwardness and regret, with the line “everything I did was right, everything I said was wrong / now I’m waiting for the night to bring me dawn” standing out as one of the young Malkmus’ more straightforward and poignant moments. “Middle America” is more like a collection of wise thoughts and observations, but presented in a humble and low-key way. There’s some good advice in the song but the emotional power of it lies more in the bits where he seems far less certain of himself or anything else. There’s something in the way he sings the “in the winter time” hook that conveys a sweet vulnerability and vague doubt that actually makes him come across as a stronger and more reliable person.
Buy it from Amazon.