Stephen Malkmus is back. Not the straight-lined, pop-driven Stephen Malkmus from his self-titled debut, but the old Stephen Malkmus that we all know and love, Pavement incarnate.
His eponymous debut appropriately ignored a billing for the rest of his band, the Jicks. It was a narcissistic affair, highly conventional and teeming with pop elements and an obsessive fixation on unimpressive vocals, essentially enveloping everything that Pavement was not. The lyrics were bland and hollow, tossing aside the almost literary caliber of Malkmus' earlier work. Actual music was pushed far into the background, leaving us with little more than a celebration of Malkmus. Sure, it was fun, but we don't want fun when we listen to Malkmus. Leave your pop elements on the radio.
On "Pig Lib," however, all of this changes. From the first track, "Water and a Seat," we immediately are thrown back to Pavement's "Wowee Zowee," replete with rambling guitar and a reminder that slacker rock might not be dead after all.
This is not a reincarnation of Pavement by a long shot, however. Malkmus throws himself to the wind in an unprovocative guitar solo in "Witch Mountain Bridge" that never would have seen the light of day were it not for this being more of a solo album. The storytelling elements of "Stephen Malkmus" also are continued on Pig Lib. "Craw Song" invokes memories of sixth grade with its who-has-a-crush-on-who introduction, and then segues into a careful examination of love and wine. For every piquant "Sheets" that sounds like a Slant & Enchanted B-side, there's a lyrical "Vanessa from Queens" to stress the fact that Stephen Malkmus is at the wheel.
The Jicks now have joined Malkmus in the billing for his albums -- and rightfully so. The sound on the album is fuller and more expressive of a group dynamic, no longer leaving the band out in the rain. The interplay between instruments and vocals is much more apparent on this album, bringing more to the table. Guitar and vocals are almost a married couple -- they dance tightly together on the eerie "Dark Wave," then abandon each other for their own interests in keyboard-colored "Animal Midnight."
The songs still hold a hint of the fun and lackadaisical, remnants of the first album, but this time they come through a different aesthetic. Freewheeling guitar replaces the rigid yet colorful structure, giving "Pig Lib" a stronger flavor of unpredictability. Keyboard runs rampant, displacing the intro to Malkmus' "Dark Wave" into New Wave territory, although with much less effect than "A Flock of Seagulls" would hope for.
Although "Pig Lib" unquestionably outshines "Stephen Malkmus," even a diehard fan's Christmas list would have a few suggestions for the next album. Malkmus' wonted guitar solos leave much to be desired and are completely unnecessary. There hasn't been such lackluster performance since Weezer's "Green Album." The meandering in "1 Percent One" is what we expect from Malkmus -- brief instrumentals as opposed to the formulaic solo of "Ramp of Death."
Malkmus' songwriting has improved since the last release, but still leaves much to be desired. When he cut out songs about Yul Brynner and pirates, he attempted to replace them with the esoteric lyrics Pavement was so renown for, but this ends up being somewhat of a cheap facade. "Watch out for the marsh hawk / He'll rip off your behind" shows us that although Malkmus put on a serious face for this album, his mind is still set on frivolity. He needs to pick an idea and stick to it, schizophrenic songwriters went out with grunge.
Malkmus is showing us that he is discovering his niche in life-after-Pavement, though. While he may never fill the shoes he spent 10years building, "Pig Lib" shows that Malkmus has a dedication to a craft that allows him to mature and grow in a new setting. It takes a certain skill to evoke images of Pavement but still be regarded as an independent. Not a masterpiece but by no means a failure, "Pig Lib" is a valiant attempt to reclaim the magic we know Malkmus has inside of him. Perhaps he is a magician after all.