Stephen Malkmus
(Matador)
Not exactly a rebirth, this worthy solo debut is certainly a reawakening. As leader of 90s US rock saviours Pavement, Malkmus' wayward vocal delivery and quirky sense of melody guided the five-piece from explosive slacker-punk beginnings (Slanted And Enchanted) through to 1999's downbeat, competent but rather limp conclusion (Terror Twilight).
But while this peculiar talent seemed to be slowly growing flat under the weight of unfulfilled expectations, the memory of the band's 1994 gem Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain lingered. Was it possible Malkmus could again summon all his creative strengths to deliver another definitive statement on the powers of experimental guitar music?
Not with Stephen Malkmus, he can't, but it offers ample evidence that he's well on his way. To suggest the languid warbler has moved a long way from Pavement's sound would be misleading, but a boost in tempo and the fun quota proves he has been revitalised by the band's split. Catchy tunes are complemented with unusual flourishes (xylophones, steel drums, handclaps, even yodelling).
Once content with offering distracted, disjointed and infrequently wonderful snippets as lyrics, for the first time Malkmus has dabbled into the art of storytelling: narrating a tale of misguided love, dogs and frisbees on Jenny And The Ess-Dog, and giving a free rein to boys-own, swashbuckling pirate fantasies on a raucous The Hook. While some tracks come and go like Pavement leftovers, this gallant first attempt contains more than enough savvy to suggest Malkmus' best days may be in front of him.