Stephen Malkmus and The Jicks - Pig Lib
(Matador)
In college, I wrote a review of Stephen Malkmus that invoked the Freudian connotation of the word "uncanny" in reference to Malkmus's use of 70s rock. Although seemingly indefinable, the idea behind the word is that that which is closest to us, the most familiar, can also be that which causes the most uneasiness in us. In fiction, an uncanny feeling can be evoked by taking something familiar and warping it, just slightly, so that while being something which is easily known to us, it is just off enough to that it takes on an eerie quality; one might say that it is out of phase, like the feeling one gets when two guitar strings sound the same note, but are slightly out of tune—it's grating only because the tuned note is so familiar (this is the way a lot of discordant and/or cacophonic modern composition works too).
I was enthralled by the word for some reason; it is an interesting subject, and I thought that, without causing too much uneasiness, "uncanny" was the perfect description of Malkmus's rock clichés that, while there since the beginning of Pavement, really became apparent en masse in Wowee Zowee and since then have risen through the ranks of uncanny to just simply, well, uh, canny.
See, in the beginning, each use of a those rock standards, from say "Spizzle Trunk" to "Half a Canyon" was interesting primarily because we could recognize them for what they were, but really because we understood that they were warped and twisted enough that they were out of phase with the original source; they were seen through the post-modern looking glass or whatever pithy descriptive phrase suits you. And that's the thing: the songs weren't just catchy, the lyrics weren't just tough to figure out, the music was interesting; there was that quality to it that intrigued you, a quality which sadly has been on the decline in Malkmus's work since Wowee Zowee, and which, with the advent of Pig Lib, has completely dissipated.
So, is Pig Lib a bad album? Unquestionably no. It's fun and catchy and it really grows on you. My favorites "(Do Not Feed) The Oysters", "Animal Midnight," and "Dark Wave" are all hummable, foot-tapping tunes. But really, that's all they are. The first real problem stems from his lyrics; Malkmus's writing isn't what it once was. The complete lack of poetic devices is actually pretty striking, and the "Jenny and the Ess-Dog"-ish vibe of "Craw Song" is, while being a pleasant tune, very unwelcome. I mean, "He cooked her a dinner/And boy it's a winner" is probably the worst couplet to ever have been written down by Malkmus. The subject matter of the song is awfully boring too, another stab at a relationship story. While the imagery of "Vanessa from Queens" is comical, it and "Craw Song" are huge lyrical regressions for Malkmus. I don't care to speculate why he's chosen a more populist route (ok, here's one, maybe he's tired of people always asking what he means), but it is pretty disappointing.
However, if the lyrics are simply lackluster, the real bromidic character of the album comes from the literal use of rock found in almost every song, except for the few that adhere to a more pop formula. Gone are the days of the uncanny; here it is pure rock for rock's sake, and while that is no doubt enjoyable on a visceral level, it's no longer gripping in the way Pavement or even Stephen Malkmus is/was. And I'm not about to sit here and complain about the degradation, but it is important to point it out because, at least for me, it is really disappointing to see someone who I regarded as extremely creative in the indie rock canon stoop to an eight minute generic guitar solo. Regardless, it will be of interest to die-hards and may even garner some new fans due to the above problems.
|
